Don't Trust Atoms, They Make Up Everything
by thimblefingers
Summary: Alfred and Arthur are stuck as lab partners in the world's most horrifying class: AP Chemistry
1. Welcome to Hell

Alfred looked at his schedule for the fifth time that day, going over the classes he had been assigned for his junior year with an uncharacteristic frown on his face. He had known when he went to the counselor for scheduling the previous year that he still had a few requirements to take (especially with his chosen profession – science wasn't exactly an easy field to get into), but that didn't mean he wasn't still upset that they had replaced his theatre class with AP chemistry. Mr. Turner had nearly cried when he heard the news that one of his favorite students couldn't take his class, but what could Alfred do? He had dreamed of teaching science since he was 8, and he couldn't stop now just because there was a scheduling conflict.

Or the fact that he had just been saddled with one of the hardest teachers at his school.

Alfred sighed and slammed his face down onto the table he was seated at, jostling one of the piles of miscellaneous wood blocks that sat around his shop-class homeroom. His brother Matthew looked up in alarm, halting in the middle of his conversation with Alfred's soft-spoken best friend Kiku. Matt sent him a questioning glance, which soon turned into a groan of exasperation when he saw the paper clutched in his twin's hand.

"This again, Al? Come on, you've known about this for months. There's no reason to get upset about it now."

Alfred shoved himself upright and looked over at his brother in disbelief. "Well yeah, I knew about the whole theatre thing, but I didn't know about _this!_ "

Matthew leaned over as Alfred pointed an accusatory finger at the section labeled 'AP Chemistry' on his schedule. "What are you even talking about?"

Alfred's movements somehow managed to become even more exaggerated as he pointed once more towards the paper. " _This!_ I thought that there was another teacher for AP chem, that maybe I'd get lucky, but nope! I've got _Brewer_."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "And what's so bad about Mr. Brewer? I had him for earth science and he was perfectly nice."

A look of horror passed across Alfred's face. "No man, you don't understand. I've heard that not a single person has ever gotten an A in his class. Like, _ever_. This is just like having only three hearts left when the boss battle starts Mattie! And I don't even have any power ups!"

"Okay…?" Matthew questioned, a confused look on his face, "Aside from whatever that was supposed to mean, there's got to be a bright side, right? Maybe your lab partner will let you cheat off them or something."

Alfred perked up at the suggestion. Of course, a hero like him would never cheat off another student, but he had totally forgotten that he'd have a lab partner. There was something especially exciting about the prospect of making a new friend that he could hang out with the whole year and do cool experiments with. Hell, they might even be someone who understood the material well enough to tutor him! That way, there was no way he could fail the class!

"Aw, Mattie, you always know what to say!" Alfred exclaimed, hastily throwing his arms around his brother before gathering up his things and practically running out the door.

"Alfred-san," Kiku called after him, "The bell hasn't even rung yet!"

Alfred sat in one of blue swivel chairs, leg bouncing up and down nervously as he waited for class to start. He had been hoping that he would be in this class with at least one person he knew, but at that point it seemed pretty obvious to him that that would be impossible. He chanced another glance at the door, hoping that somebody would walk in (and he meant that literally – anybody would be preferable to sitting in an empty classroom by himself). Another peek at his schedule confirmed that yes, he was in the right room, but with only two minutes left until class was supposed to start he was wondering if there was some major typo on the paper beside him.

A few seconds later, people finally began shuffling into the room, books in hand. Alfred flashed a bright smile and a wave at the newcomers, but only a few of them even acknowledged his presence. He looked around as they each picked one of the five tables to shove their things at, feeling a slight pang of disappointment as he was left all alone at his table once they had all entered the classroom. He tried to tell himself that that was just fine, considering that only 6 people had walked into the classroom (and most of them seemed to know each other already – at least, they were in two groups of 'knowing each other'). But as time continued to tick by Alfred realized that nobody else was going to walk in, and that either he would be stuck at this table by himself or he'd have to deal with the teacher placing him in a group that most likely didn't want him there.

Just as the bell rang, a door on the left side of the classroom that he hadn't noticed was nearly slammed open, and a man he presumed to be Mr. Brewer rushed in. He was carrying a large stack of sickeningly yellow paper that he then began passing around to the students (who soon came to realize that what appeared to be a large stack of a singular paper turned out to be a relatively small stack of a very intimidating syllabus). Alfred's eyes widened as he was handed his, flipping through the nearly 30-page packet with trepidation. How were they supposed to get through all of _this_ by the end of the year?

As Alfred began to question his entire career choice, Mr. Brewer pulled out his own copy of the syllabus and started to introduce himself (Alfred couldn't be bothered to pay attention to the usual 'welcome to your new class' speech – he was busy staring at the year's plan with undisclosed horror). A quick look up from the packet in his hands showed the relatively young teacher leaning jauntily across the classroom's lab counter. _At least he doesn't_ seem _evil_ , he thought to himself as he watched him smile and crack jokes with his new students. Alfred's ears perked up when there was a mention of food in the conversation, and he finally decided to zone back in.

"…so after every test, we bring food into the classroom to celebrate. Or mourn. Depends on the test." Mr. Brewer grinned as a general snicker went around the room, and Alfred sat up a little straighter. Eating after a test? Now there was some chemistry he could _really_ get behind. Say what you want about Alfred F. Jones, but he never turned down a good meal (especially when that meal was something other than cafeteria food at school – in small-town America, it practically made you a _god_ ).

"Oh!" Mr. Brewer exclaimed, hastily turning around and making his way back to his computer, "I almost forgot to take attendance. Just say 'here' when I call out your name, alright? So, Gilbert Beilschmidt-"

"I'm not here!" An accented voice called from across the room, followed by a round of giggles from the two students sitting beside him and a scoff from a young woman at the next table over.

"Very funny, Mr. Beilschmidt," Mr. Brewer chuckled, "But I believe you just gave yourself away." A few snickers came from the table now, and Gilbert promptly smacked them before muttering something about 'his awesomeness'.

"Francis Bonnefoy."

"Here."

"Katyusha Braginski."

"Here."

"Antonio Carriedo."

"Here."

"Elizaveta Hedevary."

"Here."

"Alfred Jones."

Alfred flashed his signature smile and turned a little in his seat to see the teacher before letting out a booming, "The hero is HERE!" that went largely unnoticed.

"Arthur Kirkland."

Silence filled the room. Now here was a point of interest, and the students all gazed around curiously as if one of them were Arthur and just refused to admit it. But as the seconds ticked by, it was clear that whoever he was, he wasn't there.

"Absent then. And Lili Zwingli."

"Here."

Mr. Brewer stood up from his computer, brushing off his pants and making his way back towards the front of the room. "Alright then, that seems to be everyone. Now if you'll open your syllabus to page-"

A loud crash was heard from outside the classroom, accompanied by what those nearest it would understand to be copious amounts of swearing. Mr. Brewer quickly hurried towards the door, opening it to find a young man on his hands and knees, rubbing his face with one hand and attempting to pick up a stack of books with the other. He looked up as the door opened, face reddening in embarrassment as he gathered his things and quickly stood up to face the teacher.

"I take it you're Mr. Kirkland then?" Mr. Brewer said with no small amount of amusement. A quick nod came from the teenager. "Well, come on in and have a seat. We were just about to go over the syllabus, so I think you'll pick things up pretty quickly from here."

Another nod, and suddenly the boy was shoving his things next to Alfred and sitting himself into one of the blue swivel chairs that surrounded their table. Alfred flashed a quick grin at the obviously flustered young man before whispering, "Hi! My name's Alfred F. Jones!" His attempt at friendliness was met with a glare as Arthur scooted his chair a little further away from him. Alfred didn't really mind though. In all truthfulness, he was just glad that he wouldn't have to sit alone.

"I'd ask your name, but I already kinda figured out that it's Arthur." Alfred whispered again, and again Arthur scowled in his general direction (his eyes never actually left the teacher). "I've never seen you before, what grade are you in?"

Another few seconds went by without a response and Alfred pouted, not prepared to be ignored. He leaned over slightly so that he could get even closer to the young man and opened his mouth to speak before Arthur turned hastily to face him.

"If you don't shut up in the next 30 seconds, I will personally castrate you." He whispered furiously, eyes flickering hurriedly towards the teacher and back again, "I already missed half of this class and I _refuse_ to miss any more vital information about this course because of your incessant _whining_."

With that, Arthur turned back towards the front of the classroom with a barely concealed _huff_ , leaving Alfred to stare dumbstuck back at him. It was a good few seconds before Alfred came back to his senses, letting out in an awe-stuck and admittedly louder-than-planned tone of voice, "Holy shit, you're _British?_ "

Mr. Brewer glanced over to their table with a disapproving frown, causing Arthur's face (which had just been cooling down from his _previous_ embarrassment) to flush a shade of red Alfred had only ever seen in kool-aid. _Well that can't be healthy_ , he thought with a small chuckle before remembering exactly _why_ he was so embarrassed. Alfred allowed a sheepish look to fall onto his face before gazing up at the chemistry teacher.

"I should hope you aren't holding a discussion while I'm talking, Mr. Jones and Mr. Kirkland." Mr. Brewer looked down at them from his place at the front of the classroom. "After all, this is a rigorous course designed only for those with intentions to work their hardest, and if you plan on slacking off I have no qualms with having you drop the class, understood?"

Both boys nodded furiously at the teacher, assuring him that they would be model students for the rest of the course. It was only after Mr. Brewer had turned to face the other half of the classroom, however, that Arthur sent him a quick peace sign under the table (although the force of the action and the look on his face could only mean that that was the British version of flipping him off).

It was going to be a long year.

* * *

 **So I'm finally starting this au! I've wanted to write this ever since I finished AP Chem, so rest assured that all the information will (probably) be correct! All of the teachers in this are oc's, mostly because I don't hate any Hetalia character enough to make them teach the worst subject ever created. I hope you liked the first chapter of what will (hopefully) be many!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	2. Partners in Crime

The second day of school was, admittedly, not much better than the first. After the usual first day of introductions and procedures, most teachers were at a loss for what to do next. Some preferred to jump right into teaching (like the insane man that taught APUSH – Alfred had heard that he'd already given forty pages of reading for homework), but most tried to allow a grace period for the students (and teachers) to acclimate back into school life. Alfred thought it was just laziness on the part of the teachers, but he certainly wasn't complaining that the only homework he had been given so far was just paperwork for his parents to fill out.

In fact, almost all of Alfred's teachers had somehow spent another day going over the classes' rules and procedures instead of getting started on any of the actual work. This laid-back attitude seeped its way into him after spending half of the day staring at the wall or doodling in one of his new notebooks, so by the time he walked into his fifth period class he was understandably prepared for another hour of 'what this class is all about'.

Suffice to say, he was unpleasantly surprised when he walked into the chemistry room to find 'AP CHEMISTRY: READ CHAPTER ONE' written in all caps at the top of the whiteboard. Alfred stared in shock at the awful news, repeating the words over and over in his head before letting out a soft, " _What the fuck?"_

The words rang out in the empty room for a moment before a sharper, crisper voice responded, "You ought to watch your language."

Alfred spun around, face slightly pink at the thought that he had been caught swearing by the teacher _again_ (detention on the second day wasn't exactly something he had been looking forward to). He searched the room for any sign of the older man, but the only person in the room was a green-sweatered teenager holding a steaming styrofoam cup. _Arthur,_ Alfred concluded, visibly relaxing before blurting out, "You're not supposed to have that in here."

"And _you're_ not supposed to swear in the middle of classrooms," Arthur put his cup down with a sigh, "But I should have guessed after yesterday that this would become a regular occurrence."

Alfred stiffened, crossing his arms defensively before retorting, "Hey man, you just took me by surprise is all. I mean, you wouldn't expect to find a random British person in the middle of the land of liberty and freedom!"

Arthur scoffed. "I think you mean the land of obesity and bad tea. Honestly, this stuff is disgusting." He answered, face contorting into a scowl as he took a sip out of the styrofoam cup.

"Why do you drink it then?" Alfred asked, setting his pile of books on the table before seating himself in the chair directly next to him.

Arthur raised his eyebrows and scooted his chair a little further away. "Because, as this _monstrosity_ of a school corporation won't allow me to bring in real, proper tea, I'm stuck drinking the cafeteria's piss-poor excuse for a heated beverage."

Alfred resisted the urge to point out Arthur's own use of a curse word in favor of stealing the young man's drink to decide for himself. He ignored the repeated demands and shouts of the boy beside him and concentrated on the flavor of the tea, savoring the taste before placing the cup back down on the table. He allowed himself a few seconds of deliberation before turning towards Arthur.

"You know, I completely agree. That tea is pretty gross. You know what would make it taste better?" He asked with a sly grin. "Dumping it in the harbor."

At this, Arthur stood up with a scowl, walked his tea over to the trashcan, and threw it away before returning to the table and carefully seating himself exactly two chairs away from Alfred. Letting out a pleased chuckle, Alfred leaned back in his chair and smirked at the young man in front of him. Just as he was opening his mouth the goad the other even further, the door burst open, the rest of their classmates rushing in from what was apparently a late lunch. Alfred blinked in surprise at their entrance. He had almost totally forgotten that he was there for class.

As the students made their way to their seats, Alfred sat back in his chair, resigning himself to the mind-numbingly boring class ahead of him. He reached over to grab his book from underneath his stack of folders when suddenly a thin hand was placed near his own. He glanced up in surprise to see Arthur leaning towards him with a scowl still firmly planted on his face. The young man opened his mouth slightly, glancing around before whispering across the table, "I know you are of less than average intellect, but I would have thought you would at least know I wasn't alive during the Boston Tea Party, and therefore wouldn't be offended by your little joke. But by all means, if you can manage to find a harbor near here I would love to watch you drink tea straight out of the water."

With that, Arthur flopped back in his seat with a smirk before pulling out his own book and turning to chapter one. Alfred himself was left gaping at the young man, his mouth slowly turning into a scowl of its own. He may have been a lot of things, but stupid sure as hell wasn't one of them. Grasping his book in his hand, he gritted his teeth at the look on the other's face. _Oh yeah,_ he thought, _This means war._

Mr. Brewer entered the room, breaking the unseen tension between the two with his mere presence. The whole class stared up at him with (mostly) smiles as he made his way behind the lab counter, even Alfred ungritting his teeth at the sight of the happy-go-lucky man. It wasn't in his nature to stay angry for long anyway, even at jerks like Arthur. He did, however, try to avoid glancing at the boy as their chemistry teacher began class for the day.

"Good afternoon everyone!" Mr. Brewer exclaimed, arms thrown out as if to embrace them all, "As you can see, today we'll be reading chapter one! I know it might seem a little sudden, but this is an AP course. It's extremely rigorous, and we won't be slacking on the material _at all_. This is meant to simulate a college course, so we will be treating it as such."

Alfred couldn't help biting his lip, glancing over at Arthur to see if he thought the teacher's speech was as hilariously ridiculous as he did. He knew as well as the others that whatever he was saying about college was complete bull, just like his 3rd grade teacher telling him people only wrote in cursive in high school. Instead of laughing, however, Arthur looked relatively pale, his lips pressed harshly into a thin line. Alfred almost rolled his eyes, thinking _Of course Mr. Prim-and-Proper over there wouldn't laugh at how stupid this is_.

"The reason we will be covering the entirety of chapter one in a day," Brewer continued, "Is not only because the subject material is simply the basics that you should remember from your previous chemistry class, but because tomorrow we will be having our first lab."

Whispers broke out across the room at this news, everyone overjoyed to be doing lab work. Alfred fistpumped slightly, ecstatic that the whole class wouldn't be boring lectures. He had heard that there was a ton more hands-on stuff in AP, but he was still happy that it had been confirmed. While he wasn't the best at paying attention, he blew everyone else out of the water when he could actually work with the chemicals.

As the class celebrated, Mr. Brewer began handing out sheets of paper explaining the materials needed, procedures, and calculations to be done afterwards. Alfred glanced over his, smile faltering a little when he saw that the experiment dealt with measurements and significant figures (which the teacher fondly referred to as 'sig figs'). He had been hoping for something a little more exciting than watching metal dissolve for 45 minutes, but he supposed it was better than sitting in the classroom all day.

"Now," Mr. Brewer added, causing Alfred's head to pop up from behind his paper, "I'm going to assign lab partners. Keep in mind that these will be your partners for the rest of the year, so I'd recommend getting to know them so that you can cooperate fully as a team. Let's see here…"

The teacher trailed off, scanning the room before turning towards the rightmost table. "Seeing as there are only eight of you, it'll be easier to just pair you up with the person you're next to. That means Braginski and Zwingli, Hedevary and Carriedo, Beilschmidt and Bonnefoy, and Jones and Kirkland."

Alfred stared in horror at his new lab partner, looking over only to see Arthur with the exact same expression. In a matter of seconds, both of their hands were in the air, staring at their teacher with desperation. Mr. Brewer glanced over at them, eyebrows quirking upwards as he asked, "Yes?"

"I don't think it would be wise for us to be partners." Arthur blurted, his hands clasping each other as Alfred nodded vigorously.

The teacher's eyes widened before furrowing in confusion. "Why not?"

This time Alfred spoke up. "It just wouldn't really work is all. We're not…compatible. It wouldn't be good to have both of us together." _Near acid,_ he added in his head.

Mr. Brewer regarded them in silence for a moment, a look of deliberation on his face. Alfred crossed his fingers under the table as the teacher stared, eyes switching back and forth between the two students. After a few seconds had passed, he stated, "I know you may not be friends, but in the real world you don't get to pick and choose who you have to work with. I think it would be a good exercise in cooperation for you to work with someone you don't know and may or may not like. The point of this class is to learn, regardless of your 'compatibility'. Think instead of your compatibility as scientists."

With that, the teacher turned towards the rest of the class to begin discussing the procedures for the lab, leaving Alfred and Arthur once again gaping up at the front of the room. It was Arthur who first turned towards Alfred, leaning in before whispering, "If you mess this up for me, I swear you'll never see the light of day again."

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows before replying, "Why do you assume I'm gonna mess this up? Hell, you don't even _know_ me. For all I know, you could completely slack off and leave me to do all the work."

Arthur bit his lip, looking at the other with disdain. "Oh, believe me, I know boys like you. You think you're all that because you're on the football team, but when push comes to shove you're completely unreliable."

Their conversation paused for a moment as Mr. Brewer turned back towards them, checking to make sure that they knew to either buy goggles or find their old ones. Alfred and Arthur both nodded vigorously, but as the teacher turned away again both of their faces morphed back into glares. Alfred clenched his fist, grinding his teeth together as he leaned towards Arthur once more.

"Joke's on you, asshole. I don't play football." He whispered furiously before concentrating on the teacher, forcing himself not to pay even the slightest bit of attention to anything Arthur was saying or doing. He could tell where Arthur was coming from with his stupid 'High School Musical'-esque stereotypes, but as far as Alfred was concerned, he didn't matter. He would just have to get through this one year working with the asshole, and then he'd never have to talk to him again.

When the bell rang, they both left the room without a single look at the other.

* * *

 **Chapter two done! The story is a little slow right now, but it'll start picking up once we get into the actual science instead of all the introductory stuff (just like real school). And, as I said before, everything in this is going to be as scientifically correct as possible, which means that I'm quite literally copying experiments straight out of my lab book. So bear with me as these two nerds learn the exact same stuff I did!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	3. Time After Time

Alfred pushed his glasses up on his nose, wondering whether or not he could get away with just not wearing them that day. He stared down at the box containing his lab goggles, slowly opening the flap and contemplating the eyewear inside. If he tried, he might be able to just fit the goggles _over_ his glasses and eliminate the problem entirely. He pulled them out by the elastic and had begun his attempt at fitting both objects on his face when a bitingly sarcastic voice rang out from behind him.

"They aren't going to fit, you know." Arthur announced from behind his lab book, where he was scribbling down the last few details of his pre-lab work. "Just leave the bloody glasses in the room and wear the goggles like a sensible person."

"Isn't bloody like, a British curse word or something?" Alfred smirked, "What happened to the whole 'don't swear in class' thing? Or does that not apply to members of the asshole club?"

Arthur raised his eyebrows, setting his lab book down with the pen safely nudged in the crease. "The asshole club?"

Alfred gave him an apologetic look. "Oh, sorry," He amended, "I meant _president_ of the asshole club."

Arthur rolled his eyes, folding his arms and resting them on the table. "You know, I didn't think you could be any more juvenile than you already were, but congratulations on proving me wrong."

A pouty look crossed Alfred's face (though he would vehemently deny it), and he pulled the goggles back up to attempt fitting them on his face again. "It's not _my_ fault you're a stuffy old man. Maybe if you lightened up once in a while you'd know how cool I am."

Arthur let out an indignant huff before replying, "I am _nothing_ like an old man, and if you had any sense of propriety you'd understand that I'm simply acting like a gentleman. One who doesn't need to 'lighten up' and one who knows you're about as cool as liquefied iron!"

"Propriety? What is this, Pride and Prejudice?" Alfred asked, nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Oh, please," Arthur scoffed, looking at Alfred with disdain, "Like _you've_ read Pride and Prejudice."

"I have, actually." Alfred replied, finally sliding his glasses off his face and replacing them with the newly-unwrapped goggles, "Maybe if you stopped making bullshit assumptions of people before actually getting to know them, someone might actually like you."

Their conversation was interrupted by a quick laugh coming from the other side of the room. Both of them whipped their heads around, only to see Francis leaning against the doorframe, the rest of the class hanging out in the hall behind them. "I see you two are getting along fine." He quipped, smirk on his face.

"Belt up, frog." Arthur retorted with a sneer before returning to his lab book.

The only reply from the Frenchman was another laugh, and Alfred looked around him in confusion as the rest of the class shuffled in. _Who is that guy? Does Arthur know him?_ Alfred asked himself, curiosity lighted at the almost familiar banter between the two. For a moment, Alfred almost turned to ask him, but then remembered that he was angry at him. He slumped back in his chair in frustration, reaching up to rub at the growing marks made by the goggles on his face. Something about Arthur just seemed to bother him, and he couldn't help but wonder why he was acting like that. Surely _normal_ people didn't automatically hate someone the moment they met them, right?

Mr. Brewer made his way into the classroom, stopping both Alfred's musing and the small conversations going on behind him. Unlike the previous days, however, he didn't find his way to the front of the classroom, opting instead to hang back near the door that led to the lab. He reached over behind a stack of papers in the corner to pull out a pen before announcing, "Alright, everybody line up on your way to the lab. I'm going to initial your procedure and data charts to prevent any fudging of your data."

Alfred gulped a little as he lined up behind Arthur. AP Chemistry was seeming less and less like a class to him and more like a prison. He looked down at his lab book, thumbing over the spine before flipping it open to the first page, where he had written his pre-lab work. After quickly checking that everything was in order (not that he could have done much about it now – it was all written in pen), he held the book out for Mr. Brewer to sign. His initials were hurriedly scratched upon the paper, and Alfred was pointed to the direction of the lab.

There were two sections of the lab, separated in the middle by a few counters and two large white boxes. Alfred hesitated for a moment between them before deciding that the one on the left (filled with anatomical models and fish tanks) was the biology lab, leaving the one on the right as the chemistry lab. He took a few tentative steps forward, trying to get used to the strange shift in atmosphere between there and the classroom. It was colder, the air flowing freely from some unseen vent, and had a smell like a cross between bleach and summer wind (something he hoped wasn't due to some strange chemical reaction).

The two separate lab tables were both hexagonal with another rectangular table placed in the center, and Alfred grabbed a stool underneath the first one, placing his book upon the black countertop. He sat in silence for a few moments, glancing around the room at the various glassware and charts hung on the walls, before someone else finally entered the room. He turned at the sound of footsteps, ready to make some witty quip about lab day, only to immediately shut his mouth upon seeing that it was Arthur. The other boy scowled before reluctantly sitting down beside him.

It took another few minutes of silence between the two before everyone had finally made their way into the room. Mr. Brewer came in last, tucking his pen into the pocket of his shirt and maneuvering around to stand in the middle of the lab tables. "Alright class," He began, "Almost all of the materials you will need for your experiment are over here at the center table. The metal cylinders, iron and zinc filings, galvanized iron, and hydrochloric acid should all be labeled, and spot plates and beakers are in their usual places. You may begin!"

The rest of the class began bustling about, but Alfred just stood there in confusion. _Is that it?_ He thought, _Isn't there supposed to be more instruction? This is just our first lab!_ He glanced around, trying to see what everyone else was doing so that he could copy them, only to come face-to-face with an annoyed-looking Arthur (he silently wondered if that was going to be a regular occurrence).

"Is there any particular reason you're just standing here, or is it just part of your natural predisposition to stupidity?" Arthur asked, one eyebrow raised in contempt.

Alfred floundered for a second before adopting an indignant look of his own. "Well, do _you_ know what we're supposed to be doing right now?"

The look on Arthur's face fell a bit. "I…er…" He stammered before finally admitting, "Not really."

A smirk began to grow on Alfred's face before he realized that this meant neither of them had any idea what was going on. A feeling of dread started to fill him, leading to him uncharacteristically stuttering, "I think we need to find the density of the mystery metal but I…uh…don't really remember how to do that."

Arthur's face seemed to light up in recognition, and he whispered almost excitedly, "I do! Oh thank god one of us remembers. Alright, you fill a graduated cylinder with water and I'll weigh the metal…somewhere." He looked around for a moment in search of a balance before taking off in a hurry, leaving Alfred alone at the lab table.

 _Why does everyone assume I know where this stuff is?_ Alfred questioned himself angrily, searching the shelves for the object. He had taken chemistry last year, but that didn't mean that he had completely memorized the placement of every single object, and he didn't really understand how everyone else seemed to just _know._ Hell, some of the kids in his class were seniors, meaning that it had been two years since they'd set foot in that room, and yet they still had no trouble. He silently cursed them as he made his way around the shelves, trying to act as if he knew what he was doing.

Alfred made a silent shout of victory when he finally found the graduated cylinders nestled between the funnels and the distilled water containers. He grabbed the cleanest one he could find (Arthur hadn't told him what size and frankly he didn't think it actually mattered) and quickly took it back to their lab station just as Arthur was bringing the metal back from the balance room.

"Here, let me see that." Arthur demanded as he pulled it from Alfred's grasp, "It would be ridiculous for both of us to do a job that's really for one person – and I wrote the weight in my lab book, you might want to copy that down."

Alfred, not wanting to give Arthur the satisfaction of agreeing with him, quietly and resentfully opened his book and began copying down what little data he had. Arthur's handwriting was crisp and easily read, seeming to flow across the paper almost elegantly. Alfred snickered as he realized how very feminine the curling lines looked, causing his lab partner to look up from the graduated cylinder.

"What on earth are you laughing at?" He asked incredulously.

Alfred let out another small snicker. "Your handwriting is so… _girly_."

"You mean legible?" Arthur asked sarcastically, "Because I assure you if that unreadable scrawl you call writing is masculine, I'd much prefer to be grouped in with the ladies."

Alfred paused for a moment, pretending to be distracted by something on the other side of the lab (really he just couldn't think of a good comeback). After a few seconds of silence, he asked, "Have you finished measuring the volume yet?"

"Ah – almost." He responded, the question immediately putting him back into business mode, "I just need to write down the volumes. I figure we can do the actual calculations later, rather than wasting precious time now."

Again Alfred reluctantly agreed with his lab partner. "So now we move on to part two? Or do we have to wait until Brewer gives the go ahead?"

"We might as well start," Arthur reasoned, "There's still a half hour left of class. It'd be silly to waste it."

"I'll get the zinc and iron filings, plus the acid," Alfred stated, not wanting to go on a wild goose chase around the lab, "And you can get the spot plate and…droppers? Is that what we need?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes, that sounds about right. It's only qualitative, so I don't think we'd need something more exact."

Arthur quickly located the objects, much to Alfred's (jealous) surprise, and returned to their station before he could even open the lid to one of the containers. This, however, was for the best, as it became evident that they needed the spot plate to place the metals in. Alfred dumped out a small sample of each into two of the spaces, carrying it back to their section of the table with care. Arthur filled both droppers, handing one to Alfred.

"We have to do them both at the same time," Arthur ordered, "So that we can observe them together."

Alfred nodded, holding his dropper over the iron fillings as Arthur held his over the zinc.

"Alright, on the count of three." He said almost under his breath, "One, two, three!"

The reaction took only a few seconds, and once both of them had completely finished Arthur moved away to record it in his notebook, Alfred following suit. Just as he finished making his notes, a booming voice called out from behind them.

"There's about five minutes left in class, so it's about time to start cleaning everything up. We'll finish the rest of experiments tomorrow."

Alfred turned to see Mr. Brewer standing in the center of the room once more (part of him wondered where he had been for the rest of class), fitting the lid back onto the jar of iron filings. Arthur began to gather the things they had used up, moving them to the sink, and Alfred halfheartedly did the same. As he washed out the graduated cylinder, he stared up at the clock in almost a daze. Most classes he spent watching the clock as much as possible, so how could he have not known it was time to go?

In fact, barring the moment he walked into the room, he couldn't remember looking at the clock even once.

* * *

 **Oh Alfred, why are you washing out the graduated cylinder, there was just distilled water in there.**

 **Third chapter done and with it comes the introduction of ACTUAL SCIENCE. Surprising, I know. I'm going to try to focus more on their actual interactions than the chemistry, but bear in mind that there will still be a** _ **lot**_ **of chemistry going on. At some point these chapters are going to stop being day-by-day chem classes, but for now their initial few exchanges are most important to the story.**

 **~Alix Marie**


	4. A Helping Hand

By the fourth day of AP Chemistry, Alfred knew that there wasn't much good to be said about the class. It was boring, it was difficult, and it moved way too fast for any sane person to learn anything (he was struggling to even understand what was meant to be review from _last_ year). But, barring everything else, it seemed he could count on enjoying a few minutes of an empty classroom before everyone else entered.

At least, he had presumed as much until he came face-to-face to a closed and locked classroom door on the first Friday of the school year.

He stared in wonder at the large oak door, reaching out and jiggling the knob as if it would magically open (third time's the charm, right?). It simply stared back as if mocking him, and he glared at it. Another small push at the door yielded no results, and Alfred slumped against the wall in defeat. There was no use wasting his strength on the obviously locked door, and unless he wanted to get expelled for damaging school property, he thought it best to just leave it be.

"What on earth are you doing?" A voice asked, and Alfred didn't even have to look over to know it was Arthur.

"Enjoying the warm glow of florescent school lights. I figure if I stand here long enough I could get a tan." Alfred replied sarcastically, not in the mood to deal with Arthur's particular brand of condescending insults right that moment. Arthur himself rolled his eyes, shifting his books to his left hand so that he could wave him away with his right.

"Would you mind doing it somewhere less…essential?" He returned, his tone biting, "Because frankly your fat is blocking my path into the classroom."

Alfred pouted, crossing his arms. "I'm not _fat._ "

Arthur scoffed, his gaze pointedly sticking to Alfred's middle section. "Call it whatever you like, but it's currently stopping me from entering through the door, and I'd greatly appreciate it if you could _move._ "

At this point, Alfred was so irritated by Arthur's derogatory speech that he decided to forego the fact that the door was locked entirely and focus on the argument that they were having instead. It wasn't difficult for him to adjust his hold on his own stack of books and slowly, petulantly, move entirely in front of the door.

"There you go!" He said, pleased with himself, "I moved just for you! I'm glad we're such good friends, Artie, that we can share this kind of special bond."

Arthur looked at him with disgust written plainly on his face. "Excuse me?" He uttered, more in defiance than actual surprise.

"It's alright, you don't have to be shy." Alfred said in a sickeningly sweet tone, "You can feel free to admit that the reason you keep insulting me is because you think I'm super hot and attractive."

Arthur actually looked genuinely sick at this, completely repulsed by his words. "Alright Jones, I'm only going to say this once, so listen up." He said, his voice laced with barely-repressed anger, "One: We are not friends. Two: I am not and _will_ not ever be attracted to you. And three: _don't fucking call me Artie._ "

Alfred laughed, voice bouncing through the almost-empty hall and causing a few stragglers to stare in their direction. "Dude, you've got some serious anger management issues. I was just kidding, _duh._ " A smug look was tossed in his direction, "Besides, why are you getting so defensive if it isn't true?"

The hand which Arthur had previously been using to gesture Alfred out of the way was now being pressed to the bridge of his nose in frustration. Alfred's grin only widened at this, pleased that he was finally able to get a rise out of the usually calm man. He watched as Arthur let a harsh breath out of his nose and looked up in frustration.

"I am _defensive_ because you're insinuating things about me that aren't true." He said, voice tight with controlled rage. Alfred crossed his arms, leaning jauntily against the door.

"I don't know man, I am a pretty attractive dude, and it seems to me like-" Alfred's sentence was cut short as the door opened behind him and he fell, stumbling backwards into his equally surprised chemistry teacher standing on the other side. His eyes were wide with a slight hint of fear, arms braced behind him on the table nearest the door, and Arthur snickered as he brushed past him into the room.

"Oh yes, you're very attractive." He said with no small amount of sarcasm, smirking as he placed his things on the table. Mr. Brewer looked back and forth between them in confusion, but ultimately said nothing about the conversation that he seemed to have interrupted. It was only a few seconds later that the rest of the class began shuffling in as usual, Alfred still haphazardly leaning across the table. It was only when a large-chested young woman (he thought her name might be Catherine or something?) politely reminded him that he was lying on her seat that he dazedly made his way to his own chair, seating himself next to a smirking Arthur.

As the bell rang and Mr. Brewer began his brief announcements for the day's class, Arthur leaned over slightly to whisper, "Well now, it seems you are rather speechless."

Alfred only blinked back at him, still not entirely able to comprehend what had just happened. This made Arthur's smirk widen just slightly, and he opened his mouth again, tongue barely gracing his lips in an almost seductive gesture as he said, "Perhaps that's because _you're_ hopelessly attracted to _me_."

He pulled back, stuttering a bit as he stared in Arthur in surprise. For some reason, he hadn't even considered that he would turn his own insults against him, and the sheer bewilderment he felt kept him just as speechless as he had been before. Luckily for him, he was saved from responding by Mr. Brewer, who had indicated that the class was to move to the lab to finish their experiments.

As they shuffled into the lab room, Alfred purposefully hung behind, wanting to avoid Arthur and that gaze he had given him. For some reason, that look left an odd feeling in his stomach (he attributed it to disgust over the thought of him finding Arthur attractive). Unfortunately for him, however, Arthur decided to hang back beside him, his smile seeming to grow every moment he failed to respond.

"That was a joke, of course." Arthur snarked as they sat their books down upon the lab table, "But I'm starting to think that I've hit the nail on the head. You really _do_ find me attractive, don't you?"

This time Alfred steeled himself, determined not to let Arthur get the best of him again. "Dude, no way. It's just that what you said was so stupid I literally couldn't respond. Plus, I'm not even gay."

At this, Arthur snorted. "I swear, if you use anything close to the phrase 'no homo', I will hit you so hard you'll regress into a past life. Anyway, we ought to get started with the last part of the lab. All of the other groups have already started."

Alfred looked around to find that what Arthur said was true. They were the only ones still standing around talking, the rest of the students bustling about preparing for the day's work. He half-blushed in embarrassment as he realized that not only had he been slacking off, but that he hadn't even noticed the time passing. He floundered for a moment as he wondered what could have come over him, but soon gathered his bearings in order to respond.

"So this is the part with the galvanized iron, right?" He asked, more out of habit than actual curiosity, "Seems pretty easy. How about you weigh the sample while I get the acid ready?"

Arthur nodded absentmindedly as he turned away, Alfred following him as the made his way to the center table. He quickly checked the size of the sample that Arthur had grabbed before making his way around to where the beakers were shelved. He was glad, at least, that his frantic search for a graduated cylinder the day before had given him a general grasp of where things were stored, so it only took him a few seconds to find something the right size for their experiment. It was one of the tiniest beakers they had available, only 50 milliliters and it fit right within the palm of his hand.

There was a few seconds of pause as he waited for a student with curly brown hair (this one was named Tony, he was sure of it) to finish pouring out his own acid. Once the boy had put the container back down and moved out of the way, Alfred hastily filled his beaker about ¾ full. He wasn't exactly sure how much acid they needed, but he didn't want to pour too much and end up having to dump some back out, so he settled on a rough estimate.

Alfred set the glassware on the counter and stood there for a few moments until Arthur returned from the balance room. It was only a few seconds later that he dropped the galvanized iron into the hydrochloric acid, setting it gently against the side of the beaker. They watched as the sample ever-so-slowly began to bubble, and they sat in silence, waiting for all the zinc to dissolve.

They waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Alfred was the first to notice that maybe there was a reason that the teacher had wanted them to wait and do this part on a separate day. It had been at least ten minutes since they had put the sample in, and yet it was still only barely bubbling. A quick glance around the room showed him that everyone else's experiments were progressing much faster than theirs, and Alfred paled a bit as he realized that it was most likely his fault that everything was going so slowly for them. He reached over and elbowed Arthur, who had been distractedly writing something down in his lab book.

"Hey, don't you think this is going really slow?" He asked, careful not to reveal that he knew exactly why it was doing so.

"Actually, now that you mention it," Arthur said with his brow furrowed, pen tapping at his teeth, "It is taking a bit of a leisurely pace. Perhaps we should ask the teacher."

Alfred nodded his consent to this plan, and they both waved hurriedly at Mr. Brewer, who made his way over to the boys. They quickly explained the situation they seemed to be in, and after a moment's deliberation the teacher left and returned with a small glass rod.

"This is a stirring rod," He said, handing it to Arthur, "My best estimate as to what's happening here is that the galvanized iron needs to be flipped. The acid doesn't seem to be reaching all of it. Just use the rod to move it around a little, that should help."

As Mr. Brewer moved away, Arthur began to poke around in the beaker, trying to flip the sample over. It was difficult work, as the stick seemed to refuse to find purchase underneath the iron, and both Alfred and Arthur grew increasingly frustrated at the tiny little _clinks_ of glass on glass that yielded no actual results.

Eventually, Alfred burst out, "Here, just let me do it."

Arthur held out the stick for him to take, but Alfred's hand brushed right past it and towards the beaker. In a matter of seconds, he plunged his hand into the acid, turned the sample upside down, and pulled his hand back out, shaking it a little. Arthur did nothing but gape as he walked over to the sink, completely straight-faced, and washed his hands calmly and collectedly. It was only after he had returned, wiping his hands on a paper towel, that he exploded.

"What the bloody hell did you just do?" Arthur asked, his tone caught between incredulous and furious.

Alfred looked over at him lamely, tossing the paper towel in the trashcan before replying, "I fixed the problem."

Another few seconds of gaping followed this admission. "You _fixed_ the _problem?_ " Arthur whisper-screamed, his tone conveying what his volume couldn't, "You just stuck your hand in _hydrochloric fucking acid._ "

"Four molar hydrochloric acid." He replied, "It's not even that concentrated."

"It was _acid._ " Arthur retorted, gesturing with his hands as if that would make him better understand his point.

Alfred shrugged. "It was the easiest solution."

"Are you _mad_?" He asked, fury puncturing his every word, "You can't just go around sticking your hand in bleeding _acid_ just because it's more _convenient._ I literally cannot physically convey just how stupid that is. You allowed yourself to come in contact with _the strongest acid in the world_ because it was _easy._ "

There was a few seconds of silence, unbroken by nothing but Arthur's heaving breaths, before Alfred made a noncommittal gesture and said, "Yeah, but it didn't really hurt, so…"

Arthur slapped him straight across the face.

* * *

 **Alright, a few important notes!**

 **One: I've had acid spilled on me enough times to know that no, it really doesn't hurt unless it's concentrated and you don't wash it off quickly. And yes, I have in fact seen someone stick their hand in acid for a really avoidable reason, and to this day it is the most confounding thing I've ever seen.**

 **Two: Don't stick your hand in acid. It's physically possible to come out completely unharmed, but it's still a** _ **really**_ **bad idea.**

 **This chapter is part of the whole reason I wanted to write this fic, so I'm glad that I was actually able to fit it into the story! The next chapter will be surprisingly not their fifth day of chemistry class, so look forward to time skips and these two nerds bonding (bonding? Get it?) over chemistry.**

 **~Alix Marie**


	5. Push Notifications

Alfred leaned back into the blue swiveling chair, checking around to see if the teacher was anywhere near before resting his feet on the table and heaving out a large sigh. He had one hand draped behind him and the other vigorously fanning at his face, attempting to cool himself down. Though there was debate amongst the students as to whether or not the school actually _had_ air conditioning, whatever they _did_ have was unquestionably down, and it seemed that the chemistry room had taken the brunt of the late summer heat.

Arthur sat beside him in the empty room, writing away in his notebook (Alfred wasn't sure why, they hadn't had a lab lately and didn't seem to be having one for a while). Other than a slight flush on his face, there was no indication that Arthur felt the heat, sipping at his usual post-lunch tea as if a hot drink in hot weather _wasn't_ a terrible idea. Alfred didn't comment on this though, and they continued on in the half-awkward silence that had become commonplace in the past week. He absentmindedly rubbed at his cheek, and winced when he prodded at the bruise that had blossomed over his right cheekbone.

Arthur's pen stilled as he hesitantly glanced over at the younger boy. There was another few seconds of silence before he almost-timidly said, "Is it still bruised?"

Alfred paused, not having expected him to say something, and oh-so-elegantly replied, "What?"

Arthur cleared his throat. "Your cheek." He elaborated, "Is it still bruised?"

"Oh," Alfred returned, blinking over at him, "Um, yeah. It is. Not too bad though, I think it's gonna fade soon."

"That's good." Arthur stiltingly replied, licking at his lips, "That's…yes, that's very good."

Another few seconds of silence passed, and then Alfred let out a small little laugh from his nose. "It hurt like hell though. You pack a mean punch, man."

Instead of the intended effect (loosening Arthur up so they could go back to the banter they had going on before), he turned away slightly, fiddling with his pen. And, if Alfred didn't know better, he would have sworn that his face flushed a little more than it already had been. Silence prevailed once more, and Alfred wanted to throw something in frustration. He knew that Arthur didn't really like him, but that didn't change the fact that Alfred _did._ Though all of their conversations so far had been mostly just insults, they had been _easy_ conversations. Something about Arthur made him so comfortable to talk to, and he was frankly a little pissed that he had lost the one new friend (enemy? Acquaintance?) that he had made this school year.

He hadn't even realized that he enjoyed Arthur's company until they had stopped their little classroom whispers, a whole week spent doing nothing but listen to the teacher drone on. Occasionally he would look over during Mr. Brewer's lectures, hoping that he'd be met with some sort of sarcastic quip or witty remark, but every time he was just taking notes. It was awful, and yet somehow he just kept looking over with the hope that he'd be looking back.

The worst parts, however, were when Alfred would try to start up a conversation. There would be a few words exchanged between them, none of them with the bite and snark of the ones before, and then just silence. It was driving Alfred insane, partially because he was a naturally social creature, and partially because he _knew_ Arthur could do better than that. Those little stilting conversations made him want to slam his fist into a wall.

"I, uh," Arthur began, startling Alfred out of his reverie, "I'm not sure that I apologized for…well, for slapping you. I was completely out of line and I'm sorry."

Alfred stared at him in amazement, absolutely sure that Arthur's face was reddening from more than just the heat. There was another few seconds of uncomprehending quiet before he let out a small laugh and stated, "Nah, man, it's cool. I mean, I get that you pretty much hate me. It's no skin off my back, ya know? Bygones being bygones and all that."

" _Hate_ you? I don't hate you." Arthur contradicted, eyebrows furrowing, "I-I mean, I don't _like_ you, but I certainly don't hate you."

Now it was Alfred's turn to be confused, his nose scrunching up as he questioned, "If you don't hate me then why would you slap me?"

More blood flushed to Arthur's face, filling even the tips of his ears with bright, cherry red. "D-don't be stupid." He stated, eyes averted from his lab partner, "It's just because you were being rather ridiculous, a-and I wouldn't wish for even my _worst_ enemy to be harmed in that sort of manner, that's all."

Alfred tried to ignore Arthur's odd behavior in order to focus on the more favorable parts of this discussion. "So does this mean we're friends now?" He asked, excitement filling his voice.

Arthur blanched, all the color in his face wiping out in a second. "Where on earth would you get that idea? I _just_ said I didn't like you, and– "

"Yeah, but we _are_ lab partners." Alfred interrupted, "And we've had plenty of conversations before so it's not like we don't have anything to talk about. Plus, you kind of owe me after giving me this bruise. Do you know how hard it was to explain this to my parents?"

"I don't owe you anything!" Arthur exclaimed, appalled at what he was saying, "Especially not my friendship! Besides, that's not even a valid way to apologize for–"

Alfred interrupted him again, grin widening with every second that passed, "Nope! I've decided it already. You and me are gonna be great friends, Artie!"

Arthur looked absolutely scandalized. "I thought I already told you not to call me that!"

"Yeah, you did." He replied, "But I'm ignoring it because we're friends now!"

As Arthur opened his mouth to argue, the door burst open and the rest of the class made their way to their seats, just barely on time as usual. Part of Alfred wanted to announce his new friend to the class just to annoy him further, but he held back on account of how he didn't know most of these people's names. The room was filled with noise now, contrary to the awkward silence that had prevailed just a few minutes ago, and yet their conversation failed to continue, fizzling out as neither of them could think of anything to say.

Mr. Brewer walked in with a wave and a smile, heading towards his desk in the back of the room, and Alfred had to hold back a groan. Even in the one week that he had been in AP Chemistry, he had learned that this meant it was going to be a lecture day (i.e. the day where Alfred discovers new and exciting ways to doodle in his notebook). He sighed as the teacher opened the powerpoint, less than ecstatic to find out what the topic of the day was. _Stoichiometry?_ He thought, a look of disgust crossing his face, _I know this is supposed to be review, but do we really need to go over this?_

Alfred's internal monologue was cut off when Mr. Brewer had a petite blonde girl (Lucy? Annie? He really needed to learn these people's names) turn off the lights, plunging the room into blackness aside from the projector screen and one small lava lamp sitting on the table behind him. As the teacher began discussing a topic they had spent most of first-year chemistry learning, Alfred opened his notebook to a fresh page. However, as he stared down at the blank sheet in front of him, he suddenly got an idea.

 _This is pretty boring, right? Like, ugh, stoich is so basic_ , Alfred wrote at the top of the paper, words barely visible under the faint glow from the lava lamp, and passed the book over towards Arthur.

Alfred watched in anticipation as his eyes scanned the paper, wrote a quick reply, and shoved the book back at him. _Don't pass notes in class, idiot._

 _But it's just stoich! It's not like we actually need to pay attention, we know this stuff already!_ Alfred scrawled, shoving the book at Arthur and giving him an indignant glance.

Arthur rolled his eyes. _That doesn't mean that there couldn't be new information along with the old. And stop shoving that thing over here, with all the commotion you're making we're bound to get a detention._

Alfred pulled it back, reading the note and placing the book squarely between them. _There, now we don't have to move it. And if you really believed that, you wouldn't still be writing to me!_

He watched as Arthur scanned over the words, and followed his hand as he scrawled back his own reply. _Yes, well._

Arthur sat there for a moment, pen poised over the paper, but seemed to be unable to think of an excuse. After a few seconds, Alfred pushed his hand out of the way and wrote, _That's what I thought._

Arthur glared at him. _He's only just introducing the topic. The important things will come later._

Alfred grinned and reached over, leaning in slightly to make it easier for him to write. _Nice excuse. Too bad you couldn't think of that when it actually counted._

 _It counts now._ Arthur scowled, pushing lightly at Alfred's shoulder in an attempt to make him move further away from him.

Alfred stood his ground, not budging as Arthur wanted him to. _Nah, not really. Because the point of an excuse was to not let me know that you actually want to talk to me, but now I know so it doesn't count._

Arthur looked scandalized. _I beg your pardon?_

 _You like talking to me,_ Alfred wrote, smug grin on his face.

Another eye roll. _Did you miss the part of our earlier conversation when I said I didn't like you? Because that is a fact that still holds true. Perhaps you suffer from selective memory? Or are you just too stupid to understand what those words mean?_

Alfred didn't even attempt to hide his blindingly bright smile. Though Arthur was insistent on their _not_ being friends, they had still returned to exchanging witty jabs at each other, and that was more than enough for him. Of course, that by no means meant that he was going to give up on being friends with Arthur, but it was a good first step. _Sorry, I don't speak stuffy old man._

 _Excuse you?_ Arthur wrote, eyebrows furrowed, _Maybe you should try speaking proper English instead of your ridiculous misspelled American language._

Alfred stifled a laugh. _Artie, I'm pretty sure I haven't misspelled a single word in this entire conversation._

He watched as Arthur's eyes darted over the page, trying and failing to find any instance where a word was spelled wrong. Eventually he put his pen back down to the paper and wrote, _Don't call me Artie._

Alfred smiled in triumph, and Arthur rolled his eyes in response. Just as he was about to jot down another reply, the lights flashed on. He looked around the room, trying to adjust to the change, when he noticed that the powerpoint had been exited out of and the teacher was making friendly conversation with the group at the other end of the room. As he realized that class was almost over, he hurriedly slammed his notebook shut, trying to hide the evidence that he had just wasted an entire class.

Arthur looked over at him, eyebrows raised, and he shrugged in response. "Well, I guess we can actually talk now, right?" Alfred asked.

The bell rang, interrupting what little conversation they'd been able to make, and they both began packing up their things. As Arthur stood up, he looked over with a smirk and replied, "No."

Alfred laughed and followed him as he made his way out of the room, the two of them walking in companionable silence until their paths diverged at the end of the hallway.

* * *

 **Chapter five done! And with it our two little chemistry nerds completely ignore chemistry class. Nice work, guys.**

 **Thank you so much for the response I've gotten to this story! It's honestly more than I ever could have hoped for, and every favorite, follow, or review absolutely brightens my day when I see it! I'm so glad you're all enjoying it!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	6. Lucky (Atomic) Number 13

Alfred leaned back in his chair, reaching into his bag of chips and tossing one into his mouth. He placed one foot on an empty blue chair in front of him, the other still flat on the ground in order to rock him back and forth as he ate his snack. Another chip was thrown into his mouth, and another few seconds went by with nothing but the sound of him chewing. Eventually, however, Arthur popped up from behind his notebook, sending him a glare.

"Aren't you not supposed to have food in the classroom?" He asked, conveniently ignoring the fact that he had, just a few seconds ago, been taking a sip out of his own contraband tea.

"Nope." Alfred stated gleefully, and popped another chip in his mouth.

Arthur gritted his teeth. "Then why do you _have_ it?" He questioned, voice full of frustration.

"Why do you care?" He replied nonchalantly.

"Because your _chewing_ ," Arthur forced out from between his clenched teeth, "Is very much so bothering me. Why do you feel the need to eat that right now instead of, oh I don't know, in the cafeteria during lunch?"

"I forgot to bring more lunch money so my account's empty. This was all I could grab so that I don't starve to death." Alfred reasoned, continuing to eat his half-full bag of chips.

Arthur stared at him, baffled. "If you didn't have money for lunch then how the hell could you afford to buy chips?"

Alfred stared at him in confusion for a moment, before his eyes widened in understanding. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot that you're British!" He laughed, ignoring Arthur's quick glare, "Dude, chips are like a buck and lunch is almost three dollars. They don't let you buy partial meals, so I scrounged up a couple quarters from the bottom of my bookbag and voila! I have chips."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You are aware that I have been in this country for many years now, aren't you? I barely even remember what it's like to attend school there." He reasoned, his voice filled with sarcasm, "And besides, that hardly explains why you couldn't still have eaten in the cafeteria. Or, furthermore, why you couldn't have just borrowed a few dollars from someone."

Alfred shrugged, forcing a grin on his face as he went back to eating his chips in silence. The truth was, he didn't have anybody that could have lent him the cash so that he could eat. After the school had decided that AP Chemistry was to take A lunch and the rest of the junior class was to take B or C, Alfred was left with no friends, no acquaintances, and absolutely nobody to eat lunch with. Which at first didn't seem like it would be much of a problem, considering his extraverted nature and friendly demeanor, but more often than not the people he had tried to talk to found him annoying rather than funny, and he was stuck eating alone. He could have just found Arthur and asked him, but he'd rather he thought him an idiot than a friendless loser.

Alfred was pulled from his thoughts when the door opened and, for once, only one person walked in. Francis flipped his relatively long hair behind him as he strode in the room without his friends beside him as the usually were. He only had a minute to process this oddity before Francis was crossing the room, leaning over the table and whispering, "Arthur, may I speak to you for a moment?"

Arthur scowled. "You already are, frog."

Francis gave him an insistent glance and he acquiesced, following the blond man out of the room with a huff. Alfred sat there for a moment, not entirely sure what had just happened. He had figured out earlier that they knew each other, but it had seemed like they weren't really on the best terms. So why did Francis need to talk to him so urgently? And why did Arthur agree?

Alfred was so caught up in his musing that he didn't notice another young man come up beside him until he had begun waving his hand in front of his face. He started, nearly jumping out of his seat as the boy snickered. As he sat himself down in the seat that Arthur had vacated, Alfred relaxed a bit, taking in the sight of the student in front of him. _This guy is one of Francis's friends,_ He thought, _What's his name? Gavin? Garret? Garr…Ga…Gil…Gilbert! That was it!_

"Hey Gilbert!" Alfred practically shouted in his joy over actually remembering someone's name for once, "What's up?"

Gilbert snickered again, reaching over and pulling one of the chips out of Alfred's bag, much to his protest. "Well you're all alone over here, and I'm all alone over there, so the awesome me figured I'd come over here and spend some quality time with one of my successors."

Alfred scrunched up his nose. "Did you just use the third person with the word awesome? And what do you mean by successors?"

Gilbert laughed heartily and threw his arm around Alfred's shoulder. "I absolutely did. And you are my successor, you're a junior who likes to mess around with people. Once I leave this school, you're gonna have to be the one to follow in my footsteps and create mass chaos. I have to begin training you now."

"Wait, wait, hold up," Alfred hurriedly said, stopping the increasingly ridiculous speech in its path, "You're a senior?"

"Yes?" Gilbert questioned, looking at him oddly.

"I thought we were all juniors in this class." He asked, staring down at the apparently older boy.

"It's almost an even split." Gilbert answered, stealing another chip from Alfred's bag, "Me, Elizaveta, and Katyusha are seniors, and the rest of you are in the junior class. All five of you."

Alfred stared at the albino man in disbelief, his mouth continuing to hang open long after he had taken Alfred's bag of chips entirely and went back to his own chair. How could he not have known that there were seniors in this class? It wasn't that it didn't make sense, exactly; just that he had never considered the fact before. In all of his previous three years of high school, he had almost never had a class with upperclassmen in it save for theatre. It was disconcerting.

A few seconds later, Arthur returned to his seat, looking tired and vaguely pissed off. Alfred wanted to ask what was wrong, but before he could even open his mouth Mr. Brewer entered the room and began making announcements for the day. He inwardly cursed the teacher, intensely curious about what it was that Francis wanted to talk about and why it had made Arthur so upset.

"As you know, tomorrow we're having another lab which you _should_ have already begun preparing for," The teacher lectured, knowing that most of his students hadn't even started writing the procedure, "But you should know that the day after that we will be having our first test over chapters one through three."

Alfred glanced over at Arthur, the two of them sharing a look of confusion. Why was this the first they were hearing of this?

"I know it seems sudden," He continued, "But unit one is all review material, and if you've done all the reading and the suggested book problems, you should be fine."

Alfred wanted to laugh at this. The teacher had to know that nobody was going to do any of the book problems unless he assigned them as official homework. He turned to share another look with Arthur, but he was facing forward, body rigid and hands still upon the table.

"When I was taking a chemistry class in college," Mr. Brewer persisted, Alfred resisting the urge to roll his eyes, "I had a teacher who gave out plenty of suggested book problems per chapter. I kept up with them the first couple of weeks, but eventually gave up. However, about halfway through the semester I got really sick and missed a few weeks of school. My grade dipped down to a D. And when I went to the teacher to ask him to raise my grade, do you know what he said? Show me your book problems. And when I couldn't produce them, he told me he couldn't raise my grade and I failed that class."

Alfred was nearly on the verge of tears at this point, struggling to keep from laughing out loud at the absolute ridiculousness of his teacher's story. He bit his lip, attempting to take deep breaths without gaining the teachers attention (and most likely a detention). Once he had his sporadic breathing under control, he turned again to look at Arthur, pulling out his notebook and a pen so they could exchange notes. Arthur, however, had paled since his last looked at him, his hands clenched around his own pen as he stared distantly towards the front of the classroom.

Alfred quickly jotted down a note and shoved it towards him. _Dude, are you okay?_

It took a few seconds for Arthur to notice the notebook sitting in front of him, and even longer to reply. _Fine, why?_

 _You don't look fine,_ Alfred wrote, trying to send Arthur a concerned look across the paper.

Arthur rolled his eyes, a slight bit of color returning to his face. _I have a cold. Satisfied?_

 _Not really, but I can tell you aren't gonna tell me anything so I'll accept that for now,_ Alfred wrote, watching as Arthur scowled and began writing something back.

Obviously something was wrong with him, any idiot could tell that. And, whatever it was, he knew it had to have something to do with whatever Francis had said to him outside of the chemistry room. He had never trusted that guy, not from the minute he had walked into the classroom with his fancy hair and stupid accent, and especially not now when he had clearly done something to upset Arthur.

 _Have you started preparing your lab for tomorrow?_ Arthur replied, jolting Alfred yet again out of his thoughts.

 _Psh, not at all. Why, have you?_ He asked, wondering if Arthur was going to tell him about any potential issues with the pre-lab (heavens knew he needed the tips after the mess he had made of his _last_ one).

Arthur rolled his eyes. _Of course I have. Anyway, I was wondering if you had any idea what mass of aluminium we're meant to use. I was thinking about one gram, but I wasn't sure._

Alfred scrunched up his nose as he replied. _Yeah, from what little I've looked at it one gram seems about the right amount. And I thought you were supposed to be a huge grammar nerd. What happened?_

 _What do you mean?_ Arthur replied, his brows furrowing.

 _Dude, you misspelled aluminum,_ Alfred shoved the notebook back at him.

Arthur raised an eyebrow, looking over at Alfred in disbelief as he read his message. _I most certainly did not. You're the one who misspelled aluminium just now in your response._

 _Man, I know how to spell aluminum, you're not tricking me into thinking I'm the one who spelled it wrong,_ Alfred replied with a nod of indignation.

Arthur looked incredulous at this assertion. _It's spelled aluminium, I can prove it. I've got a dictionary with me for English next period._

As Arthur pulled out a pocket-sized dictionary out from underneath his stack of notebooks, Alfred resisted the urge to snort at how nerdy of a thing that was (ignoring the fact that he himself carried a miniature periodic table around with him at all times). He watched in earnest as Arthur turned through the pages, coming to rest on one of the earlier pages. They both scrolled the page in earnest until they came to rest on the entry, which had a title that read:

 _Aluminum(Aluminium; chiefly British)_

They both stared at the entry in somewhat of a daze, both of them too stunned to speak (or write, as it were). After a moment, Arthur reached over and took the book from Alfred's clasped hands, uncapping his pen and replying, _It was a bloody cultural difference_. _We were both right._

Alfred almost nodded in agreement, but then a thought came to him. _Actually, since we're in America, I'm right and you're wrong. Better luck next time!_

Arthur stared at him incredulously as the bell rang and Alfred walked jauntily out the door, smug grin plastered on his face.

* * *

 **For the record, aluminium is more fun to say.**

 **So now Francis and Gilbert have introduced themselves back into the story aside from their brief appearances earlier. All of the characters in their chemistry class are going to play big roles in this story, so watch out for that! The next couple of chapters are going to follow this chronologically again, so that means more day-by-day playthroughs of these nerds' lives.**

 **And thank you all so much for every single favorite, follow, and review! I really do appreciate all of you and I'm so happy that you like it!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	7. Guys, Dyes, and Compromise

Alfred pushed his things onto the table, shoving aside Arthur's pile of notebooks. Arthur looked up, rolling his eyes at the sight of him, and returned his focus back down towards his own work. Alfred quickly grasped the box containing his goggles, pulling them out by the elastic and holding them in front of himself and, by extension, in front of Arthur.

"Alright," Alfred announced, "I've been thinking on this for the past couple of weeks and I think I've got it. What I need to do is fit the glasses inside the goggles _before_ I put them on, and then slip both of them onto my face. What do you think?"

Arthur snorted. "I think you're being a stubborn prat. Haven't we already been through this? You can't wear both of them at the same time. You're just going to have to accept the fact that you won't be able to read measurements and get on with it."

Alfred groaned, shoving himself down into his seat. "But I gotta have both on, Artie. I can't just _not see_ when I'm working in the lab, ya know?"

"Well, if you're that against it," Arthur reasoned with a smirk, "You could always forgo the goggles and end up going completely blind."

Alfred began to pout, and Arthur snickered at the look on his face. "Whatever. Just watch, it's gonna work this time, I swear."

Arthur leaned back away from his notebook, resting his chin in one hand. Once Alfred had this confirmation that Arthur was, in fact, watching him, he slid his glasses off of his face and into the cup of his goggles. From there he grasped the sides and slowly, gingerly brought it up towards his face. The path of his makeshift invention went completely unhindered until had slid the handles of the glasses all the way onto his face. The goggles fell off of the glasses with a soft _pop_ , dropping all the way to the ground.

Alfred stared in disbelief at the ground, his mouth open in incredulity as Arthur burst out laughing. He turned to glare at the young man, but he just kept on going, one hand reaching up to cover his mouth and the other clutching at his stomach. His whole body seemed to shake with the force of it.

"What are you laughing at?" Alfred asked, but his only response was to laugh even harder, his eyes beginning to water.

"Come on dude, it's not that funny." Alfred tried to reason, but at this point Arthur's breaths were coming in gasps. He stared at him for a moment, watching as the other continued to cackle, until a familiar feeling began to bubble up in his gut. He tried to stop it, but a few seconds later he too was bent over in laughter, falling over himself as he joined in.

Alfred threw his head back, their combined voices echoing through the empty room. He looked over at Arthur, whose eyes reflected his own mirth, and they both began laughing even harder, grasping at their stomachs, the table, and each other as if to try to get a hold of the uproar they were causing.

A few seconds later, however, and Arthur's laughter died out abruptly, Alfred's following suit not too long after. Arthur was facing away from him now, turning back towards his notebook and picking up his pen once again. Alfred tried to send him a questioning look, but the young man refused to meet his eyes. He found himself turning his head, trying to search out the cause of his sudden mood change, and his eyes landed on Francis, who had just entered the room with his group of friends.

Alfred narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Something was definitely up with that guy, and he didn't trust him even the slightest bit. His mind began to run wild, coming up with theories of supervillians and French spies, all culminating in the fact that he was beginning to hold quite a grudge towards the other teen. Part of him blamed it on his unnaturally blasé demeanor, but he couldn't deny that he mostly didn't like how he acted around Arthur (which was weird – he hadn't been friends with Arthur long enough for him to be this protective of him).

Mr. Brewer entered the classroom, pulling Alfred away from unknowingly glaring at the French boy. He welcomed the students to another day of class, and soon enough all of the students had begun lining up to have their lab books initialed. Alfred was unnaturally silent as he walked through the classroom, not speaking a word until he arrived at what was beginning to feel like his and Arthur's regular spot. He didn't quite have the heart to ask what had just happened, but his mind was so consumed with that moment that the only thing he could think of to say was, "So this lab's gonna be pretty fun, huh?"

Arthur looked at him strangely. "We're starting with copper and ending with copper. I'd hardly call that fun."

"Yeah, you're right, that is pretty boring. Well it's the process that counts, isn't it?" Alfred asked, a smile gently tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Oh, yes," Arthur snarked, twirling his pen around in his hand, "Because this lab is the epitome of entertainment. Besides, I wouldn't expect someone like you to find enjoyment in something like this anyway."

"What do you mean, 'someone like me'?" Alfred asked, a frown forming on his face, but Arthur's answer was interrupted by Mr. Brewer entering the room and making an announcement.

"Since this lab requires fume hoods," He began, holding up various pieces of equipment, "And we only have two, the other two groups will have to make their own. So Francis's and Antonio's groups, you can take the real hoods, and Alfred's and Katyusha's groups, here are your parts."

He handed each of the groups a funnel and a rubber tube, and after showing them how to assemble it, took the others behind the wall where the real fume hoods were held (Alfred thought they looked like giant ovens). Arthur quickly volunteered to weigh out the copper they needed, leaving Alfred to put the pieces together and attach them to the small opening on the side of the water faucet.

Once Arthur had returned with the copper carefully weighed and dumped into an Erlenmeyer flask, Alfred grabbed a small beaker of nitric acid and a disposable pipette to dispense it with, both of them working in silence. It was only when Arthur had begun setting up the Bunsen burner that he burst out with, "What do you mean, 'someone like me'?"

Arthur glanced over for a moment as he screwed something onto the ring stand. "You know, someone like you."

"No," Alfred argued, turning on the gas and lighting the flame, "I really don't."

"Do I really have to spell it out for you?" Arthur questioned as he placed the flask over the flame and held the fume hood in place over top of it, "A jock. Someone strong, muscular, and wholly _stupid_ who is completely uninterested in anything even moderately resembling an intellectual pursuit."

Alfred stared at him, dumbfounded, as he began to release the acid drop by drop into the flask. "Is that really what you think of me? Do you actually buy into that kind of stuff?"

"You wore a letter jacket to the first day of school, so clearly you're on some sort of school sanctioned sport team or another, which means that somewhere deep inside you feel superior to people who enjoy the better things in life. Hell, for all I know, you've pushed tons of kids inside their lockers just for fun." Arthur stated, not meeting Alfred's eyes as he continued to hold the fume hood steady.

"Holy shit, you really _do_ believe in that stuff." He said, caught between amazement and fury, "First of all, that's not a real letter jacket. I got it because I play basketball at the YMCA, because I don't have time for school sports. But you better fucking believe that doesn't make me better or worse than any other person on this planet. My choice of interests doesn't affect how smart I am or how moral I am. I like sports, I like science, and up until about five minutes ago I _thought_ I liked you."

Arthur stared at him, an embarrassed flush covering his face. It reached even to the very tips of his ears, and he sat frozen in place as he squeaked out, "Y-you _like_ me?"

As Alfred turned to respond, a spark shot out of the flask, heat and light spreading through their general vicinity as it _cracked_ in the air. Arthur flinched, instinctively moving backwards before remembering that he held the fume hood, forcing both of his arms back over the practically boiling acid. Alfred quickly reached over and turned off the gas, snuffing the flame before hurriedly asking, " _Shit,_ dude, are you _okay?_ "

Arthur remained stiffly over the flask. "Perfectly fine, thank you."

Alfred reached over, wrenching the fume hood from Arthur's hands and balancing it on top of the flask before noticing that he had one hand wrapped around the other. He pulled those apart as well, revealing a painful-looking burn mark on his right wrist. He looked up at him as he replied, "No, you're not."

He dragged Arthur over to the sink, forcing his wrist under the faucet as he poured cold water over what was meant to just be his wrist (but what ended up being his wrist, arm, and half of his shirt). As the water cooled the burn, it revealed a slight discoloration. Alfred drew his face closer, eventually pulling back and exclaiming, "Dude, your arm is yellow!"

"What?" Arthur practically screeched, leaning down to examine his arm as well, "Oh dear lord, there must have been some acid that flew out when it sparked. My wrist is going to be yellow forever."

Alfred turned the water off, continuing to stare at the mark on Arthur's wrist. "Nah, it won't stay that way forever. To be honest, I'm more worried about the burn. Just stay here for a second, okay?"

He disappeared into the classroom for a minute, reappearing with a small plastic tube in his hand. He instructed Arthur to sit back down and uncapped the tube, beginning to apply the substance to his wrist in small, gentle circles. Arthur craned his neck to look at the label on the tube, exclaiming in surprise once he saw it, "Burn cream? Why on earth did you have burn cream with you?"

Alfred looked up at him sheepishly from behind his glasses. "I had a mosquito bite on my ankle so I tried to grab some hydrocortisone before I left for school. It's a good thing I grabbed the wrong one, huh?"

Arthur nodded and they sat in silence for a while as Alfred continued to rub circles on his wrist. After a moment, he looked away, practically whispering, "Alfred, about what I said…I'm sorry. I suppose it was… _wrong_ of me to assume such things of you."

"Thanks," Alfred responded, "And for what it's worth, I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have gotten so angry about it, and I really shouldn't have talked to you like that. Plus, for all I know it _could_ be like that at whatever school you went to. I've been in large schools all my life, and everybody there always kind of minded their own business."

Arthur smiled up at him for a moment before his face flushed again and he looked away. "You, um," He cleared his throat, "You said that you used to like me."

Now it was Alfred's turn to blush, redness spreading across the apples of his cheeks as he raised one hand to rub at the back of his neck. "Yeah, that was kind of a dick thing to say. I really do like you, Arthur. Not just in the past tense. I mean, you're a pretty cool dude, and I'm so glad that you're my friend!"

Arthur's smile fell a bit, the corners of his mouth balancing between half-smile, half-scowl. "Yes," He agreed in a forcibly cheerful tone, "I'm very glad that we're friends as well."

With that, Arthur jerked his hand out of Alfred's grasp, holding his own wrist while his face seemed to heat up even more, as if he had just realized where it had been that whole time. "We ought to get back to work, we only have this one day to finish the lab."

Alfred halfheartedly agreed, and they finished their work in companionable silence, the only words exchanged between them being various figures and measurements. They finished the lab with just barely enough time to clean everything up, both of them leaving the room without a second glance, completely occupied in their thoughts.

 **These two nerds should never be let near chemicals, they seem to have a knack for getting it all over themselves.**

 **Fun fact! Nitric acid really does turn your skin yellow. It's 'technically' supposed to be permanent, but if it's just a little it'll go away within a year. Once again, that is** _ **not**_ **an invitation to get acid on yourself (I wonder how many times I'll have to say this throughout the course of this fic?)**

 **We're over the 15k point now, and I'm super excited about that! Thank you guys so much for all the support you've given for this fic so far, I really appreciate all of it! Next chapter our nerds are going to take their first AP chem exam, so stay tuned for that!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	8. Study Buddies

It was a rare occasion when Alfred F. Jones got sick, and even more so when that sickness was enough to keep him out of school. However, on the day that he was meant to take his first test in AP chemistry, he came down with the flu. He spent the whole day mourning the lost time and contemplating what homework he'd have to make up when he got back to school. It wasn't a very pleasant thing to think about, but he didn't really have much else to do.

When he returned to school on the Tuesday after Labor Day, he went through most of his classes playing an exhausting game of catch-up, trying to turn in his old work, make up what he missed, and pay attention to the teacher all at the same time. By the time lunch rolled around he was absolutely ready for a half hour of eating and secretly playing games on his phone under the table (as was his usual lunch custom). However, on his way down to the cafeteria he was stopped by a pale arm being shoved across his chest.

"It's a good thing I found you, or else you would have been shit outta luck!" Gilbert laughed, "Come on, follow me."

Alfred looked at him in confusion, but followed him anyway. "What's going on?"

Gilbert looked back at him, his eyes seeming to sparkle with the weight of his enthusiasm, "I was sent to find you because Mr. B figured you wouldn't know since you missed Friday. We're eating in the classroom. It's food day."

With that, Alfred's own face lit up. He had totally forgotten about the tradition their teacher had told them about earlier, in which the AP chemistry class would have a little party following a test. Now that he had been reminded about it, however, he was immediately filled with excitement over the whole prospect once again. "Dude, _sweet_. What are we eating?"

"We've got chips, salsa, cheese, fruit, cookies – you name it, it's probably in our classroom right now. You got off the hook this time though. Everybody is _supposed_ to bring one item." He responded, eyeing Alfred as he dragged him through the halls.

Alfred shrugged. "I was sick. It's basically a free pass. Anyway, what did you bring?"

Gilbert flashed a smile, using one thumb to point at his chest as he declared, "The awesome me brought the awesome drinks!"

They both laughed and continued on their way down the hall until they came to the classroom door. Alfred pushed it open with one hand, almost standing still in shock. Gilbert hadn't been kidding – it was practically a buffet. He tried to head straight for the table in the middle (there was a crock pot that looked like it was filled with velveeta cheese and he was prepared to take on the whole thing) but he was stopped by Mr. Brewer, who collected his lab book, handed him a test, and sent him out into the lab.

The cool air and vaguely acrid smell of the room was disappointing to say the least, and he resisted the urge to grumble to himself about how unfair it was (he had known that he needed to make up the test, but couldn't he have at least _eaten_ first?). He made his way through the lab, dodging various ring stands and mystery chemicals until he found an empty space big enough for him to lay out all his materials. It was only when he had picked up his pencil and written his name down on the scantron sheet when he noticed that there was someone else in the spacious room.

"Arthur?" He asked, "You're in here too?"

Arthur didn't even look up. "Don't talk during a test."

Alfred smiled. Arthur never failed to be…well, Arthur. "Were you sick on Friday? I was."

Arthur didn't even bother to respond to him that time, and Alfred chuckled a little as he bent down to look at his test. The test took a bit longer than one of its size usually would have. For a test centered entirely on review topics, it was relatively hard. Science was his strong suit, however, so he finished quickly. About twenty minutes later he wrapped his test up in his hand, returning to the classroom and saluting Arthur along the way.

After putting his test up on the front desk, Alfred headed straight for the table-turned-buffet, licking his lips as he looked over his options. He grabbed a plate and began stuffing various items onto it, filling it to the brim before shoving himself into his seat and diving in. There was a brief moment where he wished that Arthur was there for him to talk to, but that feeling quickly passed as he heard a screech from across the classroom.

"Gilbert, I _know_ you did this on purpose." A long, brown haired young woman was yelling, hands placed intimidatingly on her hips.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Elizaveta." He responded, lips curled up into a grin (Alfred privately noted her name – he really needed to start remembering who these people were).

"You know _full well_ that I can't drink Coke because Roderich's father works for Pepsi, and no one in or affiliated with their family can drink any pop but Pepsi or else he could get _fired_." Elizaveta argued, "And what do you do? You buy Coke, you self-serving asshole."

Alfred laughed as he continued to listen to their conversation, finishing up his meal. After a few minutes, Mr. Brewer sat next to him with a piece of paper in his hand. Alfred looked up in confusion, wondering what the teacher needed from him. It was only a few seconds before he was leaning in close and whispering, "Alfred, would you mind preparing these solutions for me? I haven't been able to get around to it yet, and I need them for my next class."

Alfred nodded. "Yeah, I can do that."

The teacher sighed in relief. "Thank you. You'll only be diluting a few things, so it shouldn't be too difficult. I wrote everything I need on this paper, and the materials should all be in a small tub off to the side."

"Will do, Mr. Brewer!" Alfred exclaimed before pulling himself out of his seat and returning back to the lab. He wasn't exactly _happy_ that he had lost the rest of his free time for that class, but it wasn't like he had anything better to do. Besides, it was kind of cool to hang out in the lab when nobody was there. It had a mysterious feeling to it, as if it was a magical lair rather than a chemistry room. Of course, he would never tell anybody that, but it was a fun thing to think about anyways.

He had just closed the door to the classroom behind him, dodging his way around a pile of chemistry textbooks when he began to hear a noise. It was soft, almost too soft for him to hear even in the large, empty room. It sounded sort of like when the gas was turned on, but he couldn't smell anything – maybe someone had left a Bunsen burner going? _Crap,_ he thought, _this could be really freaking dangerous. I've gotta turn that off._

When he turned the corner, however, there was nothing and no one in the room except Arthur, who jolted up in surprise as he entered the room. "Ah, hello Alfred," He stated, turning his head away, "I didn't expect you to be back."

It was too late for Arthur's attempt at hiding, however. He had heard the quiver in his voice and seen the sheen of tears falling down his face, and it was only a moment before he was hurrying to his side, paper still clutched in his hand. "Artie, what's wrong?" He asked, placing one hand on the other's shoulder.

Arthur shrugged it off, looking the other way and trying to blink back his tears. "It's nothing."

"It's pretty clearly not nothing, Arthur. You're crying in the middle of school. What is it?" Alfred clenched his fist as an unpleasant thought occurred to him, "Is it Francis?"

Arthur looked taken aback for a moment. "What? No, of course not. It's just…"

Alfred watched as his face seemed to crumple in on itself, the normally strong and defiant teen seeming more like a helpless child, and he instinctively enveloped him in his arms. "Shh, hey," He comforted, "It'll be alright."

Arthur choked out a sob at that, burying his head in Alfred's shoulder. "No, it won't!" He argued, "It won't because I don't know how to do this! I don't know how to do any of this!"

Alfred pulled back a bit, trying to look Arthur in the eyes. "You don't know how to do what?" He asked, genuinely confused.

" _This_ ," He responded, gesturing at his completed test lying forlorn on the desk, "I filled in all the bubbles, but none of the answers are right – I _know_ they aren't right. I should have studied, but I just didn't know how because I've never _had_ to before. And this is only the review chapter – oh, _god,_ Alfred, how am I going to make it through this year?"

At that he seemed to lose all sense of coherency, pressing his face once again into the crook of Alfred's neck as he sobbed. Alfred rubbed his back as he tried to sort all of this out in his mind. How could he not have noticed that Arthur was struggling? They were friends, they spent the entire class together, and yet he _still_ hadn't noticed something was wrong. If he had actually paid attention, maybe he could have helped _._

Alfred blinked as a thought occurred to him. "I know how you're gonna make it through this year," He stated, pulling Arthur back to look into his wet, red-rimmed eyes.

Arthur let out a shaky, heaving breath. "How is that?"

"Me." Alfred affirmed with a nod of his head, "I'm gonna help you study. I'll tutor you, and then _both_ of us will get better at chemistry. It's the perfect crime, see?"

Arthur let out a small, pathetic laugh at that as he reached up to wipe at his eyes. "You're a complete idiot." He said with a smile contradictory to his words, "But that does sound…nice. Yes, I think I'll take you up on that offer."

Alfred smiled in relief. "Perfect." He replied before he seemed to realize something, "Hey, will you be okay here for a second? I can turn your test in for you and you can spend the rest of class out here with me – since your eyes are still red and all that."

Arthur rolled his eyes as best he could, considering how puffy and swollen they were. "I'm not a child, I can take care of myself."

Alfred laughed and began to leave the room before Arthur stopped him with a half-whispered, "Alfred?"

"Yeah?" He responded, turning on his heel to face him.

"Thank you." Arthur said, and a small smile alighted on his face – just a little tug on the sides of his mouth, but it seemed to Alfred as if it was the most genuine smile that Arthur had ever given him. It seemed to bring his face to life, his entire countenance seeming to sparkle with gratefulness as he stared up at Alfred (though that may have just been the rosy cheeks and wet eyes left over from his crying spell). Something about the look on his face seemed to imbed itself into his mind, and he almost instinctively took a step back.

"Yeah, n-no problem dude!" He stuttered out, trying to force a casual smile onto his face while simultaneously stopping himself from immediately running out of the room, "That's the job of a hero, y-ya know?"

"Still," Arthur stated, "I'm grateful that you would do this for me. Really, thank you." And then he looked up from underneath his lashes, that little sincere smile still on his face, and Alfred could feel his own face inexplicable heating up.

"Y-yep!" He stammered, practically sprinting out of the room in order to avoid having to look at him again. He tried to calm himself down before opening the classroom door, reasoning that it must have just been a fluke, some weird trick of the light. It was nice that Arthur had smiled at him genuinely for once, and he was just surprised, that was all. It wasn't because he was glad that he seemed to actually like him, and it _definitely_ wasn't because he had looked almost pretty. Nope, just good, old-fashioned surprise.

He couldn't stop picturing that face for the rest of the day.

* * *

 **I don't know if anybody else has heard of the coke/pepsi debacle, but this is a thing that I have actually had said to me in real life.**

 **There aren't many notes on the actual story today, seeing as there wasn't much actual science that might need to be explained. Just a little note that I'm not 'technically' updating everyday (that is, I don't really mean to – it just more often than not ends up that way), so don't get too upset if I skip a day! That probably won't happen because it's summer and I have no life, but still, I wanted to say that just in case. And really, thank all of you for reading this! I appreciate every single one of you!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	9. The Usual Reaction

Alfred stood by the cluster of lockers near the front of the school, his bookbag slung casually over one shoulder as he leaned against the wall. He tried to stay as still as possible, but it was difficult with all the students that kept bumping into him on their way out of the building. Usually, Alfred knew better than to block the path of the horde of teenagers as they headed home from school, but today was a special occasion. Arthur was meeting him at the senior lockers (which were, contrary to the name, not always used by seniors – they were just called that) so that he could bus home with him.

He might have felt ashamed that he didn't yet have his license if Arthur wasn't in the exact same position. Neither of them could drive (and even if they could, neither of them had a car), so when Alfred had decided to make good on the promise he had made the week prior, they were stuck taking the bus back to his house. He, frankly, was a little excited – not just because he had the opportunity to be a real hero, but because the only friend he had that regularly came over was Kiku (and while Kiku was still his best friend, there was only one of him for Alfred to hang out with).

He pulled his bookbag a little closer to his shoulder as another student brushed past him. A little voice in his head wondered whether or not he should feel guilty for thinking that way about Kiku, but he decided it wasn't worth the internal debate and dropped it. It wasn't like Arthur was going to take his place as Alfred's best friend, he was just hanging out with him for a while (if you could even count tutoring as hanging out), so it was fine.

Eventually, Alfred could spot Arthur trying to weave his way through the crowd, and practically ran after him. It wasn't very likely that he'd be able to force his way through to the senior lockers, not with how thick the congregation of students had gotten, so Alfred decided that it was his duty as a hero to help save him from getting trampled (he had been feeling very heroic lately – ever since the incident in the lab, his superhero obsession had at least tripled). Arthur barely had time to register that he was there before he was being grabbed by the arm and pulled into a small side corridor.

When Alfred finally let go of him, he sent a glare his way, rubbing his upper arm and asking, "What what that for?"

Alfred tried to shrug nonchalantly, but he was unable to keep an excited grin off of his face. "You looked like you were about to get run over. Besides, it's easier to get to my bus this way." He gestured towards the end of the hallway, where a few sets of sliding doors were located.

Arthur furrowed his brows. "What the hell is that?" He asked, "It looks like airport security."

"It's just a couple sliding doors and a place to sign in. There's not even a metal detector," He reasoned as he dragged him down the hallway once more, "How could you not have known this was here? Haven't you been going to this school for three years?"

"Yes," Arthur argued as they passed through the doors and out of the building, "And I think I would have known if that monstrosity had been there the whole time."

Alfred chuckled. "They're just a couple of doors, dude. No need to get your panties in a knot." He laughed as they walked down the sidewalk, "Although it is pretty weird that they put it in the middle of the hallway. Nobody can walk through there at all because there's just a giant glass box in the way."

Arthur looked vaguely smug at that, but Alfred decided to ignore it in favor of pointing out his bus and forcing him onto it. He smiled and waved at the bus driver as they walked past him before slamming himself down into a seat and pulling Arthur beside him.

"If you keep doing that, I'll slap you upside the head." Arthur threatened, scowl on his face.

Alfred laughed, bright grin on his face. "Hey man, seating on this bus is competitive. You've gotta claim your seat before anyone else gets to it. And you definitely don't wanna sit by yourself on here – you might end up having to sit by a _middle schooler_."

Arthur scoffed. "Oh come off it, they can't be that bad." He reasoned, "You were a middle schooler once as well."

"Yeah, but see whereas you and I came from England and America, respectively, these kids came from the depths of hell." Alfred argued, to which Arthur only responded with a roll of his eyes, "Hey man, you'll see. They're evil."

Once everyone had shuffled out of the school and into their respective vehicles, the busses began to pull of the parking lot one by one, Alfred's bus following at the rear of the line. He was caught between looking out of the window and smiling at Arthur, who at that point had a scowl slowly developing on his face. He didn't really _want_ to say 'I told you so', but he really couldn't help the smug grin that painted his face (because he was right).

"How in the entire world is it physically possible to be this loud?" He questioned as he flicked a paper wad that had landed on his shoulder onto the bus floor.

Alfred shrugged. "They're all devil spawn."

A loud shout was heard from the back of the bus, and Arthur looked equal parts disgusted and offended. "We have been on here for all of five minutes and I'm relatively sure I have heard every curse word known to man."

Alfred laughed, happy to have Arthur's running commentary to listen to. "I mean I know my bus is pretty bad, but a lot of this is standard behavior. Is your bus like some magical alternate dimension where people aren't all total assholes?"

"My bus is a normal mode of transportation in which I don't get screamed at constantly. I can hardly hear myself think in here." He complained, leaning his head back against the seat.

"Well, the good news is that most of them get off within like 20 minutes." Alfred tried to reason.

Arthur sat up, looking at him suspiciously. "20 minutes? How long do _you_ stay on the bus?"

Alfred looked at him sheepishly. "Mattie and I may or may not be the last people to get off the bus."

Arthur crushed his hands into his face, rubbing at his eyes. "You've got to be kidding me."

Alfred laughed and pulled out a pair of headphones, handing one of the buds to Arthur. "Put this in, it'll be over before you know it."

True to his word, the next hour passed relatively quickly, and soon enough the bus pulled up to a average-sized white house on the outskirts of town. Alfred waved goodbye to the bus driver and jumped from the steps to the ground, earning him a glare from Arthur. Matthew just walked past them both with a sigh, unlocking the door before disappearing inside.

Alfred once again grabbed hold of Arthur's wrist, dragging him into the house as Arthur protested. Alfred only laughed and shoved both of their bookbags onto a chair before turning around and gesturing grandly at his surroundings.

"Welcome to the home of the Jones family, Arthur!" He exclaimed.

"It's very nice, Alfred." Arthur humored him, a small smile on his face.

"Yeah, it's pretty great, right?" Alfred enthused, not noticing his friend's thinly veiled sarcasm, "Wait till you see my room, it's kind of amazing. And – oh, I almost forgot. Do you want something to drink or a snack or something? I think I've got a bag of chips."

Arthur opened his mouth to respond, but Alfred just kept talking. "Do British people know what chips are?" He asked with a look of confusion, "I don't know what you guys call them. They're like potatoes but you slice them and fry them–"

"Alfred, I know what chips are," Arthur interrupted in frustration, "I have been in America for a very long time. It'd be ridiculous if I didn't know by now."

Alfred just stared, a blank look on his face. "But what do you call them in England?"

Arthur just sighed. "Crisps, Alfred."

"Oh, okay," He flashed his signature smile, "Do you want any crisps then?"

Arthur placed his fingers upon the bridge of his nose. "No, Alfred."

"Alright, that's cool. I just wanted to be a good host or whatever," Alfred explained nonchalantly, "My mom would kill me if she knew I didn't offer you food the minute you got here."

Arthur's face softened at that. "Well, I suppose that's alright then, if it was just about that."

Alfred privately wondered why it wouldn't have been alright before, but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind as he asked, "So, you ready to study then?"

"Ah – yes, of course." Arthur responded, wringing his hands as Alfred proceeded to drag their bookbags over to the coffee table by the couch. Both of them pulled out their books, folders, and notebooks, laying them out in front of them.

"So," Alfred began, "What do you need help with?"

Arthur stared at him for a moment, mouth going dry, before replying, "I, uh…I'm not entirely sure."

Alfred scrunched up his nose. "What does that mean?"

Arthur blushed and looked away, trying to hide his embarrassment in anger. "It means that I don't know what I don't know. I can't tell if I'm doing any of this right at all. If I knew what I was doing wrong, I wouldn't even be here in the first place!"

Alfred looked a bit taken aback, but he quickly composed himself and opened the book up. "Well, I…we could probably just start with what we're studying right now and go over that, right? And if anything comes up that you don't already know I can explain it."

He calmed down a little at that, the blush receding from his face. "Yes, I suppose that would be alright."

Alfred smiled in relief. "Good," He began, "So, um…there are five types of reactions, right? Single-replacement, double-replacement, synthesis, decomposition, and combustion."

Arthur nodded, looking to where he pointed at on the page. "Yes, I know that at least."

"So, let's take this double-replacement reaction here," He scratched down a quick chemical equation on a page of notebook paper, "And balance it."

Arthur spent a few minutes simply staring at the paper, pen in hand, before looking back up at Alfred in anger. "That's impossible. It can't be done."

Alfred smiled down at him, seemingly proud that he had come to that conclusion. "Yeah, it is impossible using the normal balancing method. But for something with all these funky ions, you half to balance it with the half-reaction method."

Arthur stared up at him blankly, and Alfred quickly explained. "You have to split it into two half-reactions," He illustrated his moves on the paper, "Balance those by adding electrons, water, and hydrogen ions, and then add them together. And boom, it's balanced."

"I don't…" Arthur furrowed his brows before pointing to one of the equations he had scratched out on the paper, "What exactly is it that you did here?"

Alfred stared at him, half-astonished. "That's just basic stoichiometry. Do you not know how to do that?" He asked, trying to sound encouraging and not horribly confused.

Arthur shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Wow, no wonder you've been having so much trouble!" Alfred laughed, but was quickly shut up by a heavily blushing Arthur elbowing him in the ribs.

"Sorry," He apologized sheepishly, "I didn't mean to make it sound like that. But really, almost all the math we've done so far is based on those kinds of calculations. If you didn't understand those this whole time, it really must have been hell for you."

Arthur turned away before begrudgingly mumbling out, "It's fine. Just teach me how to do the bleeding math, would you?"

"With pleasure!" Alfred exclaimed, a bright smile on his face as he leaned over Arthur to start scribbling various figures on his paper. The next few hours were spent like that, the both of them huddled on the couch around their shared schoolwork, Alfred explaining and Arthur listening as they went over a multitude of topics (not all of them entirely chemistry-related).

When Arthur left that night, it was with a relieved smile, a not-so-awkward hug, and the promise to return two days later.

* * *

 **Let it be known that trying to go through any chemistry class without understand how the weird box-math works is practically impossible.**

 **This chapter was supposed to be just them studying, but suffice to say it expanded a little. I included the important parts of them studying (read: bonding) and not the actual studying itself, which is mostly boring and frustrating to listen to. Also, Matthew and Kiku are back, just in case you forgot they were characters in this story (because I did – oops!).**

 **Thank you all so much for reading!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	10. Bed, Math, and Beyond

The second day that Arthur came over to study, everything seemed much more relaxed. There wasn't the tense air of before, in which both of them had tried very hard to pretend that the reason they were studying together at all was because Alfred had caught Arthur sobbing. Instead, it felt to Alfred just like two friends hanging out, like any other friends would do (he could only hope that Arthur felt the same).

Arthur walked himself in the door this time, grateful to be lacking Alfred's harsh grip on his arm. Alfred followed not far behind, a wide smile on his face. He had been a little worried that the irritable teen wouldn't have wanted to come back, but he himself had asked to return. He wasn't really sure why that fact seemed to leave a funny feeling in his stomach, but he didn't dwell on it too long.

"So, you want anything?" Alfred asked, dropping his bookbag onto the couch, where they would presumably be studying.

Arthur looked at him for a moment in silence before replying, "Actually, do you have any tea?"

Alfred blinked, staring at Arthur's face in vague realization. "I can't believe I didn't think about that. I'll make sure to buy some for next time."

Arthur laughed, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Alfred, you don't have to buy tea just for me. Water is fine."

A small blush filled up the apples of his cheeks as he headed to the kitchen. "Yeah, I mean, I knew that. I was just – yeah."

The knowing smile refused to leave Arthur's face as they walked through the kitchen door, but Alfred was unable to think of anything that might explain why he had said that. He silently filled up as glass as Arthur watched before handing it to him and grabbing a glass for himself. It was one thing to admit that he liked him, but it was another entirely to actually _show_ it.

"So, uh," He prefaced, trying to break the silence, "Do you wanna see my room?"

Arthur stared at him, looking almost taken aback. "I suppose so. I might as well, it isn't as if I have anything better to do at the moment."

Alfred grinned, making his way down the hallway and glancing behind him to make sure Arthur was following. "Cool. You're gonna love it, my room is super awesome. I can't believe I didn't show you when you were here Friday."

Though the idea had originally been something random to fill the quiet, but now that he had begun thinking about it, he decided he was actually _excited_ for Arthur to see it, though he couldn't really figure out why. He pulled Arthur into his room, flicking the switch and allowing light to flood it. As he looked around, Alfred stared at him with a nervous smile on his face.

"So, what do you think?" He asked, gesturing around him.

Arthur let his eyes sweep around the room, a critical expression on his face. "It looks like a five year old lives here."

Alfred's room was, by itself, relatively simple. The walls were painted sky blue, the carpet was a soft white, and the only real furnishings were a dresser, a bookshelf, and a bed, tucked away in the corner of the room. The decorations, however, were what added a personal touch that made the room uniquely Alfred. Various posters of movies and superheroes littered the walls, childhood memorabilia and action figures were clustered upon shelves, and a large Captain America pillow took up most of the space on his bed. Aside from a pile of dirty clothes that Alfred swiftly kicked into his closet upon entering, it really was a child's dream.

"Aw, come on dude!" Alfred pouted, "This place is awesome! I decorated it myself."

Arthur eyed him almost suspiciously. "I didn't know you liked this sort of thing."

"What?" Alfred asked before he seemed to realize something, "Oh yeah, I guess we don't really talk about anything except chemistry, huh?"

"Not really, no." Arthur replied.

"Well here's your first lesson in Alfred F. Jones!" He said with a grin, "I really, really, _really_ like superheroes."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, I can tell. Anyway, we ought to get on with our studies."

As Arthur tried to leave the room, Alfred blocked his path with one arm. Wait, Artie!" He said with a sense of urgency, "We've gotta make this, like, a _thing_ now. I tell you one thing about me, and then you tell me something about you!"

He looked up at him apprehensively before stating, "Why should I?"

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Because we're friends, stupid!" He exclaimed, ignoring the way Arthur almost seemed to flinch as he said it, "I'd like to know more about you than just how you feel about ions!"

Arthur hesitated a moment before asking, "Promise you won't laugh?"

"Pinky promise." He responded, his right pinky held in the air.

Arthur took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself before replying, "I like…to sew."

A few seconds of silence passed between them before Alfred asked, "Isn't that kind of girly?"

A large _smack_ sounded throughout the room as Alfred was, once again, slapped across the face. In his surprise, he pulled his arm back away from Arthur, who then proceeded to storm out of the room, shouting behind him, "Fuck you, Alfred!"

Alfred scrambled after him, half-laughing as Arthur started shoving his things into his bookbag. "Dude, where are you going?" He asked, trying to keep a smile off of his face.

"Home." Arthur stated, fury in his tone as he slung the bag over his shoulders.

"Don't you live pretty far from here?" He questioned, "Do you even know how to get there?"

"I'll figure it out." He hissed, trying to shove the door open before Alfred stepped in front of him, "Get out of the way."

"No." Alfred stated with a little shrug of his shoulders.

Arthur looked at him in defiance. " _Excuse_ me?"

"I wasn't making fun of you, Artie, I swear!" Alfred explained hurriedly, "It's not like I'm gonna stop liking you just because you sew or something, alright? So just stay here and study with me."

He flushed, the tips of his ears turning bright red. "Don't call me Artie." He mumbled, crossing his arms as he looked away.

Alfred grinned, knowing that he had just won the argument, and pulled his bookbag out of his hands. As Arthur looked up at him, however, he suddenly became hyper-aware that he was trapped between him and the door, only about a foot of space separating the two. He was short of breath, his palms seeming to heat up as he stared down at the shorter boy.

The flush on Arthur's face left a rosy glow on his skin, his lips pursed up into a pout, features contorted into a scowl that wasn't all that unflattering. There was a few seconds of silence between the two as Alfred simply looked at him, completely speechless. It was almost as if he was in a trance, the only thing he could focus on being Arthur. And then his mouth opened, moving completely unbidden, wanting to whisper out the words _'you're cute when you're angry'._

A large _bang_ was emitted from the kitchen, followed by copious amounts of swearing. Alfred was jolted out of his daze, a flush filling in his own cheeks as they both looked towards the cause of the commotion. Matthew stood there, half-frozen in front of a pile of pots and pans, before giving an awkward wave and turning to take care of his mess.

They both instinctively took a step away from each other, Alfred coughing and lifting a hand to rub at the back of his neck. "So, uh…" He stammered, trying to diffuse the uncomfortable air that had suddenly arisen, "Studying?"

Arthur nodded vigorously, taking the out as soon as it was given. "Yes, that sounds like a brilliant idea."

As they walked back into the living room, Alfred tried to block out the thought of what he had almost said.

* * *

Arthur eventually left around seven in the evening after several uneventful hours of more chemical equations. Alfred waved goodbye as he got into the car with his older brother, neglecting to give him a hug as he had a few days prior (more for his own sake than Arthur's). As he closed the door behind him he sighed, moving over to the kitchen counter where Matthew was doing the dishes and rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

Matthew glanced up at him for a moment before looking back down at the sink. "Sorry if I interrupted earlier." He apologized, "I opened the cabinet and everything just came flying out."

Alfred grimaced at the memory. "It's fine, dude." He assured, pulling the glasses off and wiping them on his pants, "Actually, it's probably good that you did."

Matthew sent him an awkward little smile, a comfortable silence enveloping the room with the exception of the _clink_ of dishes. A moment later he looked over at him, staring in particular at the glasses that Alfred was now pushing back onto his face. "So you still wear those, huh?"

Alfred looked at him in confusion. "Matt, you live with me," He asked with a questioning tone, "You know that I still wear them."

"Yeah, but I don't know," Matthew exhaled in frustration, waving a dish around in the air, "I figured that you would have…given it up by now, or something."

Alfred's face seemed to harden as he stared across the kitchen counter. "I'm not gonna stop, Matt. We've been over this."

Matthew almost slammed the dish he had been cleaning back down into the sink. "Alfred, how old are you now? When you were a kid it was okay, but you're practically an adult now, you can't keep doing this."

"I can and will." Alfred stated, crossing his arms. Matthew ground his teeth before reaching over and pulling the glasses off of his face.

"Do you see these?" He asked, holding the glasses away from Alfred, "These are a _crutch_."

"Give them back, Matt!" He exclaimed, reaching for Matthew's hand.

"They're _fake_ , Alfred." He snapped, gripping them harder in his hand, "They're just fake glasses. If I broke them right now, it wouldn't affect anything."

Alfred stilled. "You wouldn't." He breathed out, fear obvious in his eyes.

Matthew seemed to calm down, sending his brother a pleading look. "It made sense when you were a kid, Al," He practically whispered, "When you were eight and kids pushed you into lockers because they thought you were stupid, it was alright for you to wear fake glasses to feel smarter. But you're a junior in high school now, and it's become a _crutch_."

"They're just glasses," He responded, his tone gone almost dead, "Just let me wear the stupid glasses."

Matthew sighed and handed them back to him. "I know you're afraid that people wouldn't see you the same way, Al," He tried to reason, "But you're not stupid – hell, you're probably going to be valedictorian of our class! You don't need to rely on them."

"I just –" Alfred started and then stopped, playing with the glasses in his hands, "I just need them, Matt."

"I know, Al." Matthew patted him on the hand before moving out of the kitchen.

Alfred sighed, staring down at the black frames with the fake lenses inside. It had been a smart idea when he was a child, to give him a little pair of glasses to boost his confidence after the ordeal he had gone through when he was small. And it had worked – Alfred worked harder, tried more, and ended up at the very top of the class every year since. He knew, in theory, that they didn't do anything. The work had been all his, and would continue to be all his, even if he stopped wearing them. But at this point, he simply couldn't. They were his good luck charm.

He sighed and made his way to his bedroom, turning off the lights as he exited the kitchen.

* * *

 **Texas wouldn't be Texas if they weren't 100% fake. Unfortunately, that's got some bad connotations when you're not a personified country.**

 **So chapter 10 is done, and with it this is officially the longest thing I've ever written! Also the quickest thing I've ever written, considering it's been less than a month since I've started this.**

 **Thank all of you so much for the reviews/follows/favorites! You're all super amazing!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	11. Eat Your Heart Out

"Arthur, wait up!" Alfred shouted across the hallway after class one day. The other boy turned, stepping to the side of the hallway as he looked back with one eyebrow raised. Alfred let his eyes wander for a second, making sure no teachers were around, before sprinting across the concrete towards him.

"You coming over to work on the lab tonight?" He asked, leaning against an unoccupied expanse of lockers. They had just finished their first titration lab of the year, so by his estimation they had about a week until they had to turn their calculations (and by extension, their lab books) into the teacher. Alfred, however, tried to work on them as soon as possible, partially for his sake and partially for Arthur's. It certainly helped the other boy to not have to deal with the stress of procrastination, and more often than not the teacher would let them ask questions if they had any.

Arthur shook his head, a grimace on his face. "I can't," He explained, "Mum needs me to help clean. I don't know why she can't just have Allistor do it, but apparently being in college means that you're exempt from all household chores."

Alfred frowned, thinking about the irritable-looking redhead that almost always picked Arthur up from his house. He had never formally met the man, but the brief sights he had had of him from the door and the stories that Arthur had told him didn't leave him with a great impression. Of course, he may have just been biased at that moment because it was his fault that he couldn't hang out with his friend.

"Aw man, that sucks," Alfred responded, "I was really hoping we could get an early start on this." Arthur gave him a sympathetic look and leaned against the lockers with him.

"Yes, especially on days like today." Arthur complained, huffing a bit, "I really could use some help on this lab. It seems difficult, so say the least."

Arthur sent him a disgruntled look, and Alfred returned it as much as he could. Suddenly, an idea occurred to him, and he turned towards his friend in excitement.

"Artie," He began, his face lighting up, "Why don't we just study at lunch? I mean, we've got the same lunch period, why don't we take advantage of it? I could come over to your table tomorrow and we could work on it then."

Arthur stared at him in hesitation. "That sounds lovely," He admitted, wringing his hands a bit, "But perhaps it would be for the best if you didn't come eat with me. Maybe I could eat with you instead?"

Now it was Alfred's turn to hesitate. He couldn't let Arthur know that he ate alone, he'd never be able to live down that kind of embarrassment. It was bad enough that he had to do so in the first place, but to know that _Arthu_ r knew would absolutely kill him. "I, uh…" he stuttered, "I don't think that'd be a good idea either. We could just…eat alone? The two of us?"

At this Arthur blushed, but Alfred couldn't for the life of him figure out why. "Perfect." He stated, a small smile on his face, "I think that should work out just fine."

"Great!" He exclaimed, "So I'll see you at lunch tomorrow?"

Arthur nodded, beginning to pull away from the lockers. "Yes. I'll meet you in the commons."

With that, he pulled away from the lockers entirely and continued on his way to whatever his next class was.

* * *

The next day when Alfred made his way out of the lunch line, Arthur was in the commons as he had promised, leaning up against the wall with his lab book in hand. As he neared him he smiled, waving with the hand not holding his tray and calling his name in order to get his attention. Arthur looked up and grimaced, crossing his arms as he saw him get closer.

"Was it really necessary to shout across the entire commons?" Arthur asked as they both turned, walking in step towards the cafeteria.

Alfred grinned from ear to ear. "Yes." He said decisively before noticing that Arthur had something slung over his shoulder, "Hey, what's that?"

"This?" He asked, pointing at the object, "It's my lunch box."

Alfred scrunched up his nose, staring at it with distaste. "You pack your lunch?" He questioned as the passed through the large double doors that led to the almost oversized room.

"I can't stand school food," Arthur declared, fiddling with the strap, "It's greasy and disgusting."

Alfred shrugged as he sat his things on the nearest empty table. It was only meant to seat four people, so he figured it was fine if just the two of them sat there. Besides, he'd typically take up an entire table by himself, so there was no reason to get over-analytical about seating arrangements.

"Whatever you tell yourself to get by, man." Alfred said, snickering as he began to pick at the food on his plate, "Anyway, I figured we could eat and then go over the lab. Mostly because I'm pretty sure Brewer would dock points for pizza stains."

Arthur laughed abruptly, nearly choking on thin air. Once he composed himself, he looked over at Alfred and commented, "The sad thing is, he probably would."

Alfred smiled, a few seconds passing in silence as the both of them began eating their respective foods. Once he had taken his second bite of pizza, however, he couldn't stand the quiet any longer (when he was alone it was fine, but Arthur was _right there_ – he couldn't _not_ talk to him). He grasped at the first thought that came to his mind, asking, "So who do you usually eat with?"

Arthur stilled, hand halfway into his lunch box. "I, uh…w-what?"

"Who do you eat with?" He asked again, "Like, on a daily basis."

Arthur just kept staring at him as if he was in shock, seemingly unable to move from the position that he was in. "W-well, you see…" He stammered, "Just some people. You wouldn't know them."

"Oh yeah?" Alfred questioned conversationally, "You never know, I mean, I could know them. Try listing off some names, I'll see if any of them ring a bell."

A flush began to work its way across Arthur's face. "Well, um," He started, pausing in between his words, "I-I…that is to say…"

He turned away, the blush having made its way to his ears at that point. "I eat alone." He mumbled, his eyes firmly focused on the wall furthest away from him.

Alfred blinked in surprise. He certainly hadn't been expecting _that._ Not only because of the strangeness of Arthur's situation being the same as his own, but because he hadn't imagined that _Arthur_ of all people would eat alone. "What?" He asked in confusion, "Why?"

Now Arthur turned back in indignation, eyebrows burrowed. "Don't get me wrong, I have friends!" He defended, face still red as a beet, "But everyone in this damned lunch period is either a freshman or sophomore, and I'm certainly not going to base myself and befriend an underclassmen!"

"Yeah, I know dude." Alfred tried to sympathize, but Arthur just kept talking, rambling on in an embarrassed effort to explain himself.

"The only person I know in this lunch period is _Francis,_ " He spat out, "And I'm certainly not desperate enough to sit with my ex-boyfriend."

Arthur kept on ranting, but Alfred had almost gone into shock. He had never even thought – never even considered that Arthur liked guys. Of course, he hadn't really ever thought of him liking girls, either. A small part of him whispered, _That's because you never thought of him liking anyone but you,_ but he quickly ignored that and focused on what he deemed to be the major issue.

"Wait, wait, wait," He interrupted, holding his palms up in front of him, "You're _gay?"_

Arthur stopped in the middle of his tirade, looking over at him in confusion. "Yes? I had assumed that you knew." He said, the question plain in his voice, before a look of cautious realization came across his face, "Unless that's a problem?"

"N-no!" Alfred stammered out hurriedly, then pausing a moment to calm his voice down, "I mean, it's totally cool, dude. I'm not gonna stop being your friend just because you like something different than I do, ya know?"

Arthur's face paled, falling into an odd look of disappointment. He took a deep breath, nodding awkwardly at his friend. "Yes, well. That's good, at least." He replied, "That we can still be friends, I mean."

"So, um," Alfred began, trying to pull the conversation back to a less awkward topic, "You eat alone?"

Arthur glared at him, and he scrambled to explain. "N-not that that's a bad thing!" He babbled, "It's just that, well, so do I."

Arthur's eyes flickered upwards, widening in surprise. "You do?" He asked, astonishment clear in his voice, "How is that even possible? You could make friends with a lamp."

Alfred shrugged, looking a bit sheepish. "Well apparently underclassmen don't like me as much as lamps do."

Arthur laughed, louder and freer than his usual sarcastic chuckles. "I can't imagine how that could happen. Freshman are the most agreeable people I've ever met." He said, a smirk on his face.

Alfred let a small breath out of his nose, the corners of his mouth lifting up into a smile. "I guess I must be a real asshole if they don't like me, huh?"

He looked taken aback, his eyebrows furrowing. "Well, I wouldn't say that, exactly."

"I was just kidding, dude!" Alfred laughed at his expression, his face scrunched up as if he was personally offended by his statement, "Anyway, I was just thinking. We're friends, right?"

"Yes, we are." Arthur stated in trepidation, seemingly worried about where that sentence could be leading.

"Well, if we're friends," He reasoned, waving his hands around as he spoke, "Then why do we both eat alone? Couldn't we just…eat _together_?"

Arthur blinked in surprise. "I…honestly hadn't even thought of that."

Alfred smiled, leaning forwards onto the table. "So, what do you say?" He asked, his eyes glimmering with hope and a little bit of nervousness (not that he thought he'd be rejected, or that he'd be particularly upset if he did – heroes didn't worry about that kind of thing).

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Why are you saying that as if it's some life-altering question?" He asked, his tone laced with sarcasm, "Yes, I'll eat lunch with you, you git."

"Yes!" Alfred exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air, making as big of a show as possible in defiance of Arthur's snarky comment. Naturally, Arthur huffed and looked away, but he couldn't entirely hide the small smile that was tugging on the corner of his lips.

"You don't have to be such a prat," Arthur commented, "Honestly, sometimes I wonder why I even agreed to this friendship."

"It's because I'm too awesome to refuse." He replied, grinning over at him as he crossed his arms over the table.

Arthur rolled his eyes, beginning to shove his things back into his lunch bag. "Oh, of course. How could I have been so blind?" He asked sarcastically, "Anyway, we ought to get started on the lab. We've wasted enough time already."

"I wouldn't say _wasted_." Alfred mumbled, but picked up his tray and walked it over to the dishwashers anyways. Once he returned, they both opened up their lab books, each of them pulling out their pens and staring down at the data they had taken during the lab.

"Do you have any idea where we're meant to start with these calculations?" Arthur asked, looking at his book with confusion.

"Well we need to find the molarity of the sodium hydroxide, so I think if we take the mass of the KHP – "

Alfred was interrupted by the bell, which rang so loudly and so abruptly that it nearly jolted him out of his seat. He stared up at the clock on the cafeteria wall, trying to see if, by any chance, it had just rung early, but it had been perfectly on time. He stared at it almost in awe as Arthur began to pack up his things. _That couldn't have been all of lunch_ , he thought, _could it?_

"Are you coming?" Arthur asked, staring down at him from where he stood beside the table, one eyebrow raised.

"Uh, yeah," He replied, hurriedly gathering up his things, "Yeah, just a minute."

As they walked down the hallway, their steps in tandem once more, he wondered how the time could have passed so quickly.

* * *

 **Oh Alfred, you're about as clueless as a modern adaption of Jane Austen's Emma.**

 **I don't have much to say about this chapter, other than eating alone isn't nearly as bad as it sounds – you can get a heck ton of homework done in that half hour.**

 **Thank you all so much for reading this, especially those of you who review as often as you do! I'm so grateful for all of the feedback, and I'd just like you all to know that you're the absolute sweetest people ever to grace this earth.**

 **~Alix Marie**


	12. Puns Are the Bomb

"So?" Alfred asked, leaning over the table, palms smacking down onto its surface, "What did you get?"

Arthur looked up, one eyebrow raised. "What exactly do you mean?" He replied, his hands stilling from where they had been writing in his notebook.

Alfred rolled his eyes, sitting himself down into his usual chair. "On your test, genius." He snarked, a half-smile on his face.

It had been a little over a month since their first test, and they had been studying diligently ever since. Arthur had been coming over to his house at least twice a week to go over the material, and Alfred had tried his hardest to help him understand the things that he struggled with. At this point, he was invested in his success just as if it was his own.

"Well," He prefaced, a coy grin on his face, "How am I supposed to know? He hasn't passed the tests back yet."

"Oh, come on," He replied with a look of disbelief, "You and I both know that the tests are sitting on the counter. You totally looked. Now _tell me what you got._ "

Arthur's lips curled upward, unable to control his smile any longer. "I got a B+. It's not much, I know, but it's so much better than last time that I –"

"Are you kidding?" Alfred exclaimed, "That's great! That- that's incredible!"

Alfred was so ecstatic that he grabbed Arthur's hands, pulling him up out of his chair and swinging him around. Arthur protested at first, but eventually he was laughing and smiling just as much as Alfred was. They spun around, just enjoying their victory with all the joy and cheerfulness that they could muster up.

When they finally stopped moving, Alfred's hands were on Arthur's shoulders, Arthur's hands gripping his biceps in kind. He grinned, trying to catch his breath as he stared down at the shorter boy. Something seemed to leap in his stomach as he looked at him, his face flushing at the sight.

"Um," He murmured, seemingly unable to move his eyes from Arthur's face, "So, congratulations."

Arthur stayed where he was, hands wrapped around Alfred's arms as he blushed up to his ears. "Thank you," He breathed out, his voice nearly a whisper as he half-smiled up at him.

There was a pull in his chest, something almost magnetic pulling him towards Arthur. He could feel himself leaning forward, until there was barely an inch of space between the two of them. But it didn't feel weird or odd like he had expected it to – in fact, it felt almost natural. Like that place, that moment, was right where he was meant to be. Like he wanted to bridge what little of a gap there was between them. His eyes flickered down to Arthur's lips before flickering back upwards to meet Arthur's own. _His eyes are so green,_ He thought, _I've never noticed before._

Suddenly, the intercom sounded three beeps, indicating that an announcement was about to be made. Alfred and Arthur jumped away from each other, pulling their limbs apart as if they had been shocked. Alfred turned away, rubbing the back of his neck as he listened to the announcement tell everyone to get to their fifth period classes and tried to forget what had just happened.

Arthur furrowed his brow, still red up to his ears. "Why would they tell us to go to our fifth periods?" He asked, voice slightly shaky, "Isn't that just normal procedure?"

"Huh?" He returned, before gathering his bearings and replying as nonchalantly as he could, "Oh, it's probably just a bomb threat."

Arthur looked over at him in shock. "W-what?" He asked, voice panicked, "Oh god, I knew it was a bad idea to move to this country. I told my parents that this sort of thing was common here, but they didn't believe me and _now_ I'm going to die in the middle of school."

"Dude, chill," Alfred said in a placating tone of voice, "There's not actually a bomb. Either it's a drill or some kid just wanted to skip out on a test. Totally normal and totally safe."

"How can you just _assume_ that it's not real?" Arthur asked, staring at him in a mixture of disbelief and fear.

Alfred shrugged, trying to act as little awkward as possible. "We had three of them last year. All the kids who called it in got expelled."

Arthur looked slightly calmer, but still seemed to hold a sense of dread around him. Alfred wanted to keep the conversation going, but no matter how hard he tried to speak, his tongue was tied. Silence reigned in the room, both of them pointedly looking in opposite directions, until the rest of the class made their way in. They all gathered in the center of the room, knowing that they wouldn't be staying long.

Once Mr. Brewer came into the room and took attendance, they all started walking out of the classroom, beginning the long trek out to the football field. They passed various other classes on their way, the students dragging their feet out of the building as if they were just going to their next class. _It's actually pretty cool looking_ , Alfred thought as he stared at the giant mass of teenagers crossing the highway, holding up traffic.

Arthur shivered from where he was walking beside him in silence. Alfred could only guess at what was going through his head at that moment, but he could only assume that it wasn't good. He desperately wanted to comfort the other boy, to make him feel even _half_ as blasé about the whole thing as the other students were, but he knew that it wasn't the best idea at the moment. Even just the thought of touching him put Alfred on edge, and actually doing so would most likely yield unfavorable results (besides, it was awkward enough already).

They cut through the grass, making their way up the stairs that led to the bleachers. Their class shuffled their way all the way to the top, Alfred sitting a little further away from the rest and Arthur almost instinctively following him. They sat there for a moment, silence enveloping them as the heat beat down. Alfred stared across the field, looking at the various cars and people moving around in the distance. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Arthur wrap his arms around himself.

He couldn't let Arthur just sit there, clearly terrified about the situation he was in. But how was he meant to help? Trying to explain the situation hadn't worked, and he couldn't _touch_ him (for both of their sakes), so what could he do? He put his chin in his hands, filled with frustration. It was an impossible situation, but he was the hero, he _had_ to help.

Suddenly, a solution occurred to him, and his eyes widened in realization. He turned to Arthur, who pulled back a little in surprise, and asked, "Hey Arthur?" He asked, trying to keep the excited grin off of his face.

"What?" He responded, looking confused but turning his head to face Alfred anyways.

"Why can't you trust atoms?" He began, attempting to keep as straight of a face as possible.

Arthur looked him up and down, a vaguely suspicious expression falling over his features. "Why?"

Alfred bit his lip. "Because _they make up everything_!" He exclaimed, his face breaking into a blinding grin as he said one of his favorite jokes.

Arthur rolled his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching but not moving much otherwise. "Very funny, Alfred."

It was a start, but not quite the reaction he was hoping for. Before Arthur could turn away once more, he asked, "Do you have 11 protons?" He asked.

Arthur sighed, but turned to face Alfred anyway. "Why?"

"Because you're _sodium fine_." He responded, nearly cracking up at his own joke. Arthur, however, only breathed a small breath out of his nose (which, as far as Alfred was concerned, that didn't really count as a laugh).

"Really?" He asked with a look of disbelief, "Did you honestly just say that?"

"What did one charged atom say to the other?" He persisted, knowing that one of these jokes would make him laugh eventually.

"I don't know, what?" Arthur replied sarcastically.

"I've got my _ion_ you." He responded proudly, but Arthur remained as stoic as possible.

He raised an eyebrow, crossing one of his arms. "Very clever, Alfred."

Alfred refused to be beaten by Arthur's sarcastic comments, and continued on. "Are you copper and tellurium? Because you are _CuTe_."

Arthur rolled his eyes once more, but Alfred could see a little hint of a smile tugging at his face. "How very inventive."

Alfred paused now, wracking his brain in order to try and remember another pun. "Um…If I were an enzyme I'd be DNA helicase so I could unzip your genes."

"Oh, come on," Arthur complained, "That one isn't even a chemistry pun, it's biology."

"Sorry," Alfred apologized with a grin on his face, "I guess all the good ones _argon_."

Arthur stared at him in silence for a moment before bursting out in laughter. He even let out a snort, lifting up one hand to cover his mouth as he attempted to turn away from him. Alfred unleashed a smile of his own, excited that he had been able to calm him down, even for a moment.

Just then, a voice came over the football field's PA, announcing that the drill was over and they could all return back to class. Alfred could hear Arthur sigh in relief, and he followed him as Arthur stood up and made his way down the bleachers. The walk back into the building was in direct contrast to the one on the way out. They talked and laughed, their awkwardness from before all but gone.

Once they returned to class, Alfred was prepared to sit in the room for the remainder of the period, but instead Mr. Brewer directed them to the lab. They all shuffled into the room, groaning and whining about their sunburns and aching muscles. Alfred shared a look with Arthur, both of them half-snickering at their classmates' attitudes.

They gathered around the center of the lab, where a pumpkin sat, eyes and mouth carved but still remaining in place. "Since we don't really have enough time to go over the material I had been planning to work on today," Mr. Brewer began, "I figured that I'd give this demonstration that I've been planning for a while."

He walked around to the back of the pumpkin, beginning to prepare the materials. "I was going to wait a few weeks before giving it, seeing as it's a uniquely Halloween-themed lab," He explained, "But today seems as good a day as any. Essentially, we're going to generate acetylene inside of the pumpkin and then light it, and watch the results. You might want to steer clear of the front of the jack-o-lantern."

Alfred and Arthur moved back, Arthur leaning over to whisper, "I thought acetylene was a military-grade chemical or something like that?"

Alfred grinned as Mr. Brewer brought the match closer to the pumpkin. "Didn't you know?" He whispered back, "We don't work with anything in AP Chem if it can't kill us."

With that, the teacher lit the acetylene, the jack-o-lantern parts flying out of the pumpkin and across the room with a loud _bang._ Silence filled the room for a moment before the class erupted with noise, all of them laughing and discussing how cool it had been. Alfred thought, looking around the room, that he felt an odd feeling of connection with these people. He didn't even know the names of half of them, but that moment, those memories were uniquely _theirs._ Only the eight of them had experienced that, and it felt to him almost magical.

He turned towards Arthur, wanting to share his thoughts, but all that came out was, "This is really cool, huh? Like, this class and stuff."

Arthur, however, seemed to understand his meaning, and nodded in kind. "Yes, it really is."

They shared a long look, Alfred trying his hardest not to focus on Arthur's eyes (they were just so _green_ – he really didn't know how he hadn't seen it before), and then they burst out laughing with the rest of them, determined to enjoy that feeling of familiarity that the class seemed to breed.

Of course, that was before the police burst into the room, thinking that they had set off a bomb and nearly arresting them on the spot. Life was funny in that way.

 **Oh look, there's the title of this fic!**

 **Things between these two nerds just keep getting more and more awkward. Is it even possible for them to mess things up more than they already have? The answer is yes, definitely.**

 **Also, I'm relatively sure that acetylene is military-grade but not entirely. I may be mixing it with thermite, which is another thing we put in a pumpkin and lit on fire. AP Chemistry does not mess around.**

 **Thank you all so much for all the favorites/follows/reviews! They mean the absolute world to me and give me the motivation to keep writing this dang thing.**

 **~Alix Marie**


	13. All I Have To Do is Dream

Arthur sat in the corner of Alfred's bed, notebook nudged tightly between his legs. Alfred lay on the floor, hands folded behind his head. He had come over with the intention of studying but, as was tending to happen more and more lately, that had gotten pushed to the wayside in favor of them just hanging out. Of course, Arthur denied that he was visiting because he liked to spend time with him, but Alfred knew better than to believe that.

It had been nearly a month since the 'incident' (at least, that's what he called it in his head), and he had all but pushed it from his mind. It was so easy, once he was away from Arthur, to attribute that breathless feeling to the fact that they had been spinning, that tugging in his gut to hunger. Sometimes, he was even able to convince himself that he had dreamed the whole thing. He had to, really, considering just how much time he spent with the other boy.

There was a pause in the scratching noise that had been going on for a few minutes, and then Arthur peeked over the side of the bed. "What is it that you're doing down there, exactly?"

"Looking at the stars." He replied, gaze still firmly fixed on the ceiling.

Arthur rolled his eyes, returning back to the corner of the bed. "Ah yes, naturally. You're inside in the middle of the day, but by all means keep looking at the stars."

Alfred laughed, sitting up and crossing his legs. "There are stars on the ceiling, genius." He replied, his tone full of sarcasm, "The little glow in the dark ones."

Arthur turned his head upwards, closing his notebook and sliding the pen onto the cover. "I hadn't noticed." He confessed, "How long have they been here?"

"Ever since I was a kid," Alfred responded, gazing up at the ceiling once more, "Most people probably would have taken them down by now, but I just couldn't. I dunno, I guess I'm a little too sentimental."

"No, I –" Arthur frowned, his eyebrows furrowing, "I think it suits you in a way."

"Oh yeah?" Alfred asked, curious as to what he could mean.

"Yes," Arthur replied with a smirk, "It's a very childish thing to do."

Alfred huffed, flopping back down onto his back and mumbling, "Fuck off."

Arthur laughed, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. "Honestly though, it really does seem like a very _you_ thing to do." He continued with a placating smile, "It's almost innocent, in a way."

Now it was Alfred's turn to raise an eyebrow. "You think I'm innocent? Really? I just told you to fuck off."

"You may swear like a sailor, but that doesn't change the fact that you're essentially a child. I mean, look at this," He reasoned, holding up the Captain America pillow that was lying on the bed, "Your entire room is filled with superheroes."

Alfred jumped up from the floor, jerking the pillow out of Arthur's grasp with an almost panicked look on his face. "Don't mess with that, man!" He reprimanded, "It's important."

"It's a pillow," Arthur pointed out, a look of disbelief on his face, "It can't possibly be that important."

Alfred hugged the pillow to his chest, looking at Arthur with a vague feeling of distrust. "You don't understand, dude," He muttered, "I got this pillow when I was a kid. I've had it all my life and… well, it's just important, okay?"

How could he explain how much superheroes meant to him? How their strength and ideals had molded and shaped the person he was? Everything he did, everything he hoped to be was based upon being a hero, on helping and saving people. If he hadn't had that pillow and everything it symbolized as he was growing up, he wasn't sure he would be the person he was.

Arthur looked as if he was about to make a snarky comment in return, but he shut his mouth as soon as he saw the expression on Alfred's face. His features seemed to straighten out into something more serious than the playful attitude they had been arranged in before, and he nodded to show that he understood.

"Alright," He said, looking up at Alfred from his bed, "I'll take your word for it. After all, it isn't as if there aren't inanimate objects that I've been attached to." At this, he sent a quick look over to the notebook he had been writing in, grasping the spine and shoving it back into his bookbag.

Alfred smiled at him, a grateful expression on his face. As he sat the pillow back down on the bed and moved to the floor once again, the door to his bedroom was nudged open and a large white cat with a ring of brown fur around its neck trotted in. It made its way across the carpet before hopping onto the bed and snuggling up next to Arthur's thigh.

Arthur smiled and buried his hand into the cat's fur, while Alfred just stared at it in frustration. "Paw Revere! You know you're not supposed to be in here!" He reprimanded, glaring at the cat who was now purring happily on the bed.

A small laugh came from above him, and he looked up to see Arthur smirking down at him. "You named your cat _Paw Revere_?" He asked with a snort, continuing to pet the animal.

Alfred frowned and crossed his arms, letting out a huff. "It's a good name. I picked it out myself."

"Oh, I'm sure you did." Arthur returned, "I'm not sure what's more ridiculous: the fact that your cat's name is a historical figure or the fact that your cat's name is a _pun_ about a historical figure."

"Do you have a cat?" Alfred asked in indignation, "Because I'd like to see you do any better."

"I do and I have." Arthur responded with a smug look on his face, "He's a Scottish fold and his name is Kitty Bennett."

Alfred stared at him in silence for a moment, dumbfounded, before bursting out, "That's a pun too, you jackass!"

"Yes, but it's a literary pun, which means I automatically win." Arthur argued, still petting the cat, "And Pride and Prejudice is a book I know and love, which is more than _you_ can say about Paul Revere."

"I do _too_ love Paul Revere!" Alfred shouted, everything about that statement offending him in the worst of ways. Arthur snickered, the affronted look on the other boy's face unendingly hilarious to him.

A sharp _bang_ came from the wall next to Alfred's bed, followed by a muffled shout of, _"Do you know how thin these walls are? Shut up so I can study, Alfred!"_

Silence filled the room for a moment, both Alfred and Arthur staring at each other following Matthew's outburst. Then both of them erupted into laughter, the entire situation far too ridiculous for either of them to remain serious about any longer. Their giggles seemed to annoy Paw Revere, who hopped back off of the bed and padded out of the room.

Once they both calmed down, Alfred walked over and shut his door. "So, uh," He began, looking over at Arthur with an expression that was at once both sheepish and pleased, "Matt's room is next to mine."

Arthur snorted, rolling his eyes at Alfred's unnecessary comment. "Yes, I could tell."

* * *

When Arthur left that night, he hesitated at the door, a few seconds passing by in silence between the two. It seemed almost as if he wanted to say something, his brow furrowed and lips parted. The look on his face seemed so distressed that Alfred felt the sudden need to just reach out and run his hand across his face, smoothing out all the worry lines. In the end, however, neither of them did anything, and Arthur walked out of the door with nothing but a wave.

Alfred watched him drive away from the living room window before dragging himself into the kitchen to make himself dinner. It was one of the rare nights that both of his parents would be working late, leaving Alfred and Matthew to fend for themselves. Alfred really didn't mind though – it just meant that Arthur could stay over longer (they liked him, of course, but not enough to have him over for dinner every night).

He ended up settling for nothing but a bag of chips (another benefit of his parents not being home), and shoved himself down on the couch to watch a movie with his 'dinner'. He scrolled through the channels, not really finding anything interesting before his eyes alighted on the stack of DVDs sitting next to the TV. _Oh yeah,_ He thought, a grin on his face, _It's Captain America time_.

The movie finally finished around ten-thirty, Alfred yawning and stretching his arms out behind him. He fumbled around in the dark for the remote, eventually finding it and clicking off the TV. He cleaned up his mess, shuffled into the bathroom to brush his teeth, and then made his way into his room. He flopped down onto his bed, pulling the covers up over himself as his eyes slid slowly and gently shut.

 _He was running, sprinting through the woods, pushing through every obstacle with superhuman strength to get to – to get to something. What was it that he wanted? No, not it._ Her _. He needed to get to her._

 _He couldn't quite remember who she_ was _, but he knew that she was ahead of him somewhere and he knew that she was in danger. There was something very bad at the end of the woods, something that he needed to fight (he didn't know exactly what it looked like, but he was sure that it was evil – he could feel it)._

 _People started flying at him from all sides, and he fought them, his hands and feet and shield (he just now remembered – he had a shield) all working in tandem to knock out the various figures trying to keep him from reaching his goal. Once they were all lying unconscious on the ground, he ran, not stopping until he broke through the line of trees into a wide, open field._

 _There was a monster there, with a skull for a head and hundreds – no, thousands – of tentacles, and wrapped securely in the middle of them was her, curly brown hair the only part of her he could see. He lunged for the monster, ripping at its legs, the tentacles coming off like Velcro, until there was nothing left but her, standing in a military uniform all alone in the center of the field._

 _She turned, and then all he could see was green eyes, filling his sight and mind and soul with their impossible, emerald green. He reached towards them, and suddenly the open field was gone, replaced by a dark wooden door in a dimly lit room, Arthur staring up at him with his brow furrowed in distress._

" _You saved me," He whispered, his voice filling the room, the echoes almost impossibly loud, "You're my hero."_

 _And then Arthur was moving forward, those green, green eyes the only light in the nighttime's darkness, and he whispered once more, his voice as smooth and soft as silk, "Before I go, there's something that I need to tell you."_

 _He was so close now, so close that he could have touched him with barely a flick of his wrist, but he was frozen in place, unable to move. Arthur's hands reached upward, each of them slowly and gently cupping his face. Then there was another whisper, so near that he could feel the air upon his lips, "I love you, you know."_

 _And then Arthur's lips were on his, so impossibly soft, moving in a way that was at once both gentle and passionate, and he could feel himself lifting his arms, bringing his hands up to run them into his hair._

Alfred woke with a gasp, eyes darting around in a panic, before he called out into the darkness, "Mattie!"

* * *

 **All the way into chapter 13 and Alfred finally seems to be getting it. Took you long enough, you nerd.**

 **The next chapter is going to pick up right where this one left off, so that means fun brother bonding time in the middle of the night!**

 **Also, Kitty Bennett is by far the best name for a cat to ever be invented, and I dare you to find a better one.**

 **~Alix Marie**


	14. But There Are Dreams That Cannot Be

Alfred woke with a gasp, eyes darting around in a panic, before he called out into the darkness, "Mattie!"

There was a loud _thump_ that came from the other side of the wall, and a few seconds later Matthew appeared in the doorway, rubbing at the side of his head. He leaned against the frame, his arms crossed as he stated in a groggy voice, "Alright, Al, it's two in the morning. This better be good."

"I had a dream," He prefaced, voice a little shaky, "O-or a nightmare, I don't know."

"You don't know if it was a dream or a nightmare?" Matthew asked, one eyebrow raised as he moved to sit on the bed next to Alfred, anticipating a long talk after that opening statement.

Alfred pulled his legs up to his knees. "Well, it –" He stammered, "It felt like a dream. B-but it had to have been a nightmare."

Matthew sighed, leaning back up against the wall. "And why is that?" He mumbled.

"W-well it started all normal," He babbled, "I was being the hero and all that, saving damsels and stuff. But then Arthur was there, and he said he loved me, and then he _kissed_ me."

Even in the dark, Alfred's face seemed to glow with a blush. Matthew stared at him in disbelief. "And?" He asked, indicating that he should continue.

"And what?" Alfred replied, "Then I woke up."

Matthew rolled his eyes, shoving himself off of the bed and moving towards the door. "Whatever. I'm going back to bed."

"W-wait!" Alfred exclaimed, grabbing on to his wrist, "You can't go to bed, I need help!"

"With what?" He asked, face contorting to an expression that was half confusion and half disgust, "Alfred, I literally couldn't care less that you had a dream about kissing your boyfriend. It's two in the morning."

"Arthur's not my boyfriend!" Alfred exclaimed, voice full of panic.

Matthew looked at him in bewilderment. "He's not?" He asked, tugging his hand out of Alfred's grip.

"No!" He hissed adamantly, staring at him with a pleading expression on his face.

"Huh." Matthew stated, and sat back down onto the bed.

There was a few seconds of silence between them before Alfred turned to face his brother, whispering, "You thought Arthur was my boyfriend?"

"Yes." Matthew replied, his face as straight as his tone.

Alfred simply looked at him for a second, then asked, "Why?"

Matthew shrugged. "Why wouldn't I?" He reasoned, leaning back against the wall once more, "I mean he's here constantly, you talk about him constantly, and there was that one time when you were at the front door – I figured you just didn't want to make a big deal out of it."

"B-but that's ridiculous!" Alfred defended, "Arthur and I are just friends!"

"Friends who dream about kissing each other?" Matthew asked with one eyebrow quirked.

"Yes! No! I don't know," Alfred muttered, burying his head in his hands.

Matthew sighed, reaching his hand over and placing it on his brother's shoulder. "Look," He began, "I know you wanted me to come in here and reassure you that you aren't gay. But I'm not sure that I can do that."

"B-but I'm _not_ gay!" Alfred exclaimed, "I mean, just look at me! I'm nothing like a gay guy!"

Matthew leveled his brother with a reprimanding glare. "Alfred, you of all people should know to avoid stereotypes. And anyway, I really _can't_ tell you that you aren't gay. You did just have a dream about kissing another man."

Alfred sent him an indignant glower. "That doesn't have to mean anything!" He declared.

"No, you're right," Matthew agreed, "It doesn't. But with the way you're reacting to it, there's clearly something going on here."

As Alfred opened his mouth to argue, Matthew cut him off. "Look, your sexuality really has nothing to do with any of this. It's all just about attraction." He stated, pulling his legs up underneath him.

"And I'm not attracted to guys. Great, mystery solved." Alfred quickly replied, leaning his head back against the wall.

Matthew let out a small laugh at that. "Nice try, Al." He admitted, "But you can't get out of this that easily. It's like – alright, what do you think when you see an attractive girl?"

"I think 'she's pretty hot'." Alfred responded, leading Matthew to let out another little laugh.

"How eloquent." He snarked, "But I meant how do you feel? When you see an attractive girl do you think she looks pretty like a sunset looks pretty, or is a different feeling than that?"

"It's different." Alfred said, unable to think of any other way to respond.

"Right," Matthew continued, nodding his head, "And when you see an attractive guy, is he beautiful like snowflakes are beautiful, or is it different?"

Alfred scrunched up his nose, looking at his brother with disdain. "But I don't like guys, how would I know if one was attractive?"

Matthew's face contorted in disbelief. "Alfred, I know you aren't stupid. You can tell if someone would be considered hot even if you don't find them hot. It's called aesthetic attraction and it's what I'm trying to explain to you right now, so answer the question."

Alfred sat in silence for a second, staring at the wall opposite his bed, before whispering, "It's different."

Matthew shrugged, looking over at his brother with a tried expression. "There you go." He offered.

"So what does this mean?" Alfred asked in trepidation, "Am I…am I gay?"

"Do you get the same kind of feeling you get looking at guys as when you look at girls?" He questioned, voice gentle.

"…yes." Alfred responded after a moment.

Matthew shrugged again, turning to face the same wall his brother was staring at. "Then you're not gay."

"B-but you just said –" Alfred stuttered out, before Matthew placed a hand on his shoulder.

"There are more sexualities than just gay and straight, Alfred," Matthew interrupted, "You could be bisexual, pansexual, asexual, demisexual, or a whole lot of other prefix-sexuals. There's a lot out there for you to learn about. I'd say you're probably bi or pan, although I don't think we could _totally_ rule out demi –"

Matthew paused as he saw the almost horrifyingly confused look on his brother's face, and gave his shoulder a quick pat. "Sorry, I shouldn't have overwhelmed you with all of that at once. Maybe we should just stick with bisexual for now, until you know enough to make that decision for yourself."

"So what does this mean?" Alfred asked, his voice shaky.

"You like girls and you like boys," Matthew explained, "Although the latter may be a little harder to come to terms with."

"Yeah," Alfred agreed, "But it does kind of…feel right, ya know?"

"Yes, I do know." Matthew said with a little smile, shifting his weight so that he could stretch his feet out once more.

There was a few seconds of silence before Alfred breathed out, "I'm bisexual."

Matthew looked over at him, one eyebrow raised, and he shrugged sheepishly. "Hey man," He reasoned, "I figure I might as well get used to saying it now. No time like the present."

His brother breathed a small laugh out of his nose and nodded in agreement. "Well, now that we've gotten that part out of the way," Matthew said before rising up onto his knees and facing Alfred, "I'd like to breach a subject in which I will _not_ be as gentle and understanding."

Alfred leaned back a bit, a wary expression on his face. "What's that?" He asked in trepidation.

"Arthur." Matthew stated plainly, and Alfred groaned.

"Come on, Matt," He argued, "I already said that he's just my friend."

"Alfred," Matthew insisted, "We just had an hour long conversation about your sexuality because you had a dream about kissing him. The very _least_ you could do would be to consider the idea."

Alfred crossed his arms, frowning at his brother. "Just because I…like guys," Alfred hesitated on the new phrase coming from his mouth, "Doesn't mean that I like Arthur."

"Fine." Matthew argued, "Is he your best friend then?"

His brother blinked at him in surprise. "No!" He exclaimed, "Of course not! Dude, you of all people should know that Kiku is like, my best friend for life."

"Really?" Matthew asked in the most sarcastic tone he could muster at three in the morning, "Then why is Arthur here so much more than he is? Why do you talk about him more and with him more than Kiku? Shouldn't _he_ be considered your best friend now?"

"Of course not!" He defended, looking overtly offended.

"Why?" Matthew asked, his tone just as heated as his brother's.

"Because it's _different_!" Alfred burst out, before seeming to realize his mistake and sinking back into his pillows. Matthew just crossed his arms, looking at him with a face that seemed to scream 'I told you so'. Quiet filled the room, the only sound being Alfred's heavy breathing.

Then Matthew cut through the silence with, "And why is that?"

"I –" Alfred started and then stopped, his face contorted in concentration, "I – when I'm with Kiku, I wanna hang out. I wanna play video games and talk about movies and stuff, but when I'm with Arthur –"

Alfred stopped again, Matthew patiently waiting for him to continue. "When I'm with Arthur, I wanna hang out too, but – but more than that." He said, trying to reason out his thoughts, "I wanna touch him. Not – not like in a gross way or anything! I just wanna hold his hand, a-and hug him, and comfort him when he's sad, and smooth out that little worry line that he gets right above his eyebrows –"

Alfred paused, his eyes widening in realization before whispering, " _Shit."_

Matthew raised one eyebrow, but Alfred ignored him, burying his face into his hands and mumbling "Shit." into them once more. He rubbed his eyes, heavy with both the lack of sleep and the weight of his realization, with the heels of his hands. "Fucking hell," He muttered, "I like Arthur."

Alfred looked over at his brother, face full of distress. "I _like_ like Arthur." He whispered, and Matthew let out a snort.

"What is this, fifth grade?" He asked before being leveled with a glare by his over-emotional brother.

"Mattie," He whined, "Come on, this is serious."

"Yeah, I know," He responded, "That's why it's funny."

Alfred ignored his brother's sarcastic comment for once, instead opting to bury his face back into his hands and moan out, "How am I supposed to deal with this? I have a _crush_ on _Arthur._ Arthur my _lab partner_. The guy I see every day, eat lunch with, and comes to our house every other day!"

"Look on the bright side," Matthew reasoned, "You won't have to awkwardly bring him home to meet mom and dad because he already has."

Alfred glared at him and he chuckled, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. "Alright, I'm done now," He promised, "Only serious business from now on."

Alfred groaned, banging his head back against the wall. "Honestly, Mattie, what am I supposed to do with this information?"

Matthew shrugged. "Easy," He reasoned, "Ask him out."

He looked at him as if he had been shocked. "I can't do that!" He exclaimed, throwing his arms out in front of him as if to illustrate how impossible it was.

"Why not? Does he not like guys?" Matthew asked.

Alfred looked away, trying to avoid his brother's eyes. "Well _no,"_ He stated, "Actually, he basically just flat-out told me that he was gay, but –"

"But what?" Matthew questioned, "He likes guys, you like guys, you like him, he _definitely_ likes you. Why _wouldn't_ you go for it?"

His brother looked at him with doubt in his eyes. "Arthur doesn't like me."

"Are you kidding me?" Matthew asked, disbelief plain on his face, "The sexual tension between you two is so thick I could cut it with a knife. I mean, I honestly thought you were dating – what part of this do you not get?"

"The part where you're wrong." Alfred argued, letting out a yawn.

"Eloquent," Matthew stated before pushing himself off of the bed and onto the floor, "I'm going to bed, it's nearly four in the morning. You better thank your lucky stars that it's not a school night."

As Matthew padded out of the room, he called out, "Love you too, Matt!" with a small laugh. Once he had closed the door, Alfred pulled himself under the covers once more, grateful to be able to get some sleep after the session of self-realization that he had just had.

He dreamt of various people walking past him, all of them waving hello as they went by, and a pair of green eyes seated just behind his shoulder.

* * *

 ***HALLELUJAH CHORUS PLAYS***

 **So this nerd has finally realized what we knew all along, even though it took him 14 chapters to do so.**

 **This chapter was oddly easy to write, considering it's one of the biggest scenes in the whole thing. I can't believe I managed to write an entire chapter entirely based on Alfred's sexuality, featuring a lecture on uncommon sexualities by Matthew, who is apparently now the expert on these things.**

 **I really hope you all like how the story is going so far, and thank you all for the favorites/follows/reviews, they really mean a lot to me!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	15. Down With the Sickness

The Monday after Alfred's all-night talk with Matthew, he took every step with deliberate caution, trying to keep from seeing Arthur for as long as possible. Part of him hoped that he would just call in sick (and by hoped he meant wished on as many shooting stars and 11:11s as possible), but he knew that wasn't going to happen – it was a lab day, and Arthur wouldn't miss one if the world was ending. The work was just too hard to make up.

He gently eased his way around the door to the chemistry classroom, sighing in relief when he found it to be empty. He stepped around the tables until he reached his own, throwing his possessions down onto its surface and shoving himself down into his chair. He pulled his goggles out of their box, fiddling with the elastic in his nervousness. He had been preparing for this eventuality all day, but he still wasn't quite ready to face him. At least there would be the lab to distract him, though – unlike at lunch, which he had skipped in order to hide out in the library.

Suddenly, he could hear footsteps padding across the carpet, and he tensed, not looking away from the goggles in his hands. Within a few moments, Arthur was sitting down next to him, mumbling hello and opening up his notebook to begin writing. Alfred was hit with the sudden urge to run outside of the classroom, his face paling as he kept his eyes firmly fixed on his hands.

"Alfred?" Arthur asked, staring at him with confusion in his eyes, "Are you alright?"

Alfred jumped, looking at him in surprise. "Um," He stuttered out, before forcing a grin onto his face, "Yeah, of course! N-never been better! Why would you think I wasn't alright?"

Arthur quirked one eyebrow. "You didn't respond to me when I said hello." He stated as if it had been obvious.

"O-oh, right!" Alfred babbled, "Yeah. Um, hi!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his notebook with a small laugh. "Honestly, sometimes I wonder about you." He said, his tone gentle. It sounded so soft and smooth, almost like silk, and Alfred was immediately reminded of how he had sounded in his dream when he confessed to him.

He flushed bright red at the thought, turning away as fast as he could to try and hide his face. Unfortunately for him, that motion caused Arthur to look up, staring at him with his eyebrows furrowed. "Are you really sure that you're alright?" He asked, concern written all over his face, "You look rather flushed."

Alfred nodded his head vigorously. "Never been better!" He exclaimed, his smile widening almost comically.

Arthur frowned at that, clearly not buying his act. "Sure," He said, sarcasm lacing his tone as he leaned forward out of his seat to press a hand against Alfred's forehead.

"W-woah, woah, what are you doing?" He asked in a panic, pulling himself as far away as the chair would allow.

"I'm just going to check your temperature, hold still." He responded, reaching out once more in an attempt to hold his hand against him.

Alfred jolted back once more, pushing his body even further back, one of the chair legs leaning off of the ground. "Y-you know, I really don't think you need to," He argued, "I feel fine, so you can just go back to doing whatever!"

Arthur scowled, leaning forward even further. "Stop being so difficult and let me check your temperature, git." He chastised.

"Really, dude, I'm fine, so there's no need to –" Alfred yelped as he tried to distance himself from Arthur even further and ended up pushing too far, stumbling off of the back of the chair and onto the floor.

Arthur laughed a bit at his situation, but instead of helping him up off of the floor, he decided to kneel down before him and take his temperature while he was still disoriented. Alfred tried his hardest to look away, hoping that it might conceal the blush that had only increased with the touch of Arthur's hand upon his face. It was so soft upon his skin, pressing gently onto his forehead before moving to push a lock of hair behind his ear.

"Well, you're a little warm, but it doesn't seem to be a fever just yet." Arthur reasoned, seemingly oblivious to Alfred's discomfort, "I'll leave it alone for now, but if it gets any worse I'm going to drag you to the nurse myself."

Alfred nodded vigorously, wanting to avoid any and all physical contact that may have been triggered by anything other than complete agreement with the other boy. He felt like even a slap would make him burst into flames at this point, his level of embarrassment was so high.

He pulled himself up off of the floor, righting the chair and sitting himself in it, trying his hardest to ignore the fact that Arthur had just sat down not two feet from him. He nearly sighed in relief as he began writing in his notebook again, grateful that his attention was off of him.

He glanced over at him for a moment, watching as his pen scratched across the page, his hand holding it almost delicately in its grip. It was almost surreal to look at him now that he had realized his feelings towards the other boy, not to mention his own sexuality. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before – how handsome Arthur was. The jut of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the sparkling green of his eyes, even his never-kempt hair was attractive in a sort of messy way. But it wasn't just his features that made him so appealing – they were, after all, just features. It was the way he used them, the way his face always seemed to be lit with emotion, that made Alfred want to gather him in his arms and never let him go.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice Arthur turning to face him until it was too late. "Alfred?" He questioned, "Why are you staring at me?"

Alfred pulled back from where he had been unknowingly leaning on his hand, laughing and moving back to messing around with his goggles. "I wasn't staring at you." He denied, "Why would you think that, babe?"

He froze in place as he realized the mistake he had just made. Arthur scrunched his face up, questioning, "Babe?"

"D-dude!" He exclaimed, trying very hard to move his limbs in a way that seemed natural, "I-I meant dude! Why would I have said anything else?"

He forced out another laugh, but aside from another strange look Arthur said nothing in response. Alfred nearly sighed in relief at that. He couldn't believe that he had just said that – it was one thing to think about using that particular term of endearment with his friend, but it was another thing entirely to actually do so (especially considering they were just that – friends).

To distract himself from the embarrassment he was feeling (and to cover up the blush that was still growing somehow), he pulled his goggles up to his face and attempted to slide them on over his glasses, as he had done before every other lab they'd had that school year. He tried slipping them on goggles-first, then putting the elastic on and pulling the plastic over the front, and even pulling them on from below, but nothing worked. After a moment, he could feel Arthur's gaze shift over to him, and he instinctively gulped.

"You know that that's never going to work," He argued, staring at the mess he had made, goggles practically sideways on his face, "You do this every lab and it hasn't once worked, why on earth do you keep trying?"

Alfred shrugged, knowing that anything that came out of his mouth would probably be pointless babble and various stuttering. Arthur sighed in exasperation and got out of his chair, leaning over Alfred's face once more.

He reached out, plucking both goggles and glasses off of his face, gently laying the glasses on the table before placing the goggles back on Alfred's head in the way that they were meant to be worn. Alfred himself remained frozen during this entire exchange, hands clenched into fists in his nervousness about the other boy's proximity. "Why do you keep touching me?" He asked, unable to help himself.

Arthur simply blinked back at him. "What do you mean?" He asked in confusion.

"Y-you keep _touching_ me!" He exclaimed, "When you were trying to take my temperature, and just now, doing that – you didn't need to! I told you I wasn't sick, and I could have fixed the goggles myself and I – I wish you would just _stop!_ "

The sudden outburst surprised both of the boys, neither of them having expected him to react like that. It was a shock for Alfred especially – he'd wanted Arthur to stop, certainly, but he hadn't wanted to _yell_ at him.

"Oh," Arthur responded, voice shaky as his face contorted with what was unmistakably hurt, "Right. Yes, of – of course. I won't do that sort of thing any longer if it's bothering you."

With that he turned away, pulling out his notebook and began to write in it once more. Alfred was about to reach out, to tell him that he hadn't meant any of it and that he didn't want to hurt him, but at that moment the rest of the class entered in a burst of noise, Mr. Brewer following shortly behind. There was no time for him to explain himself (though he didn't really know how he would have) as he made his way into the lab behind all of the other students.

He sat his notebook and pen down in the usual place, but instead of the usual few seconds that he and Arthur would talk about dividing up the jobs, he was left alone as Arthur prepared what little materials they needed. _Oh yeah,_ He thought, _I've really screwed up here._

Once Arthur returned to their little corner of the lab with the temperature probe, a laptop, and the various vials filled with the organic liquids that they were meant to be finding the evaporation rate of. "So, uh," He began, trying to break the silence, "I guess we just connect the probe to the laptop and let it do its thing, huh?"

Arthur gave an absentminded nod as he hooked all of the equipment up, but otherwise didn't respond. Alfred sighed, leaning forward onto the countertop. "Listen, man," He half-whispered, "About what I said back there – I didn't mean it. That was a really awful thing for me to say, like a real dick move, ya know? And honestly, I don't even care if you touch me. It's just –"

 _Just what?_ He thought, _Just that I have a major crush on you and every time you touch me I feel like I'm either going to melt, explode, or kiss you on the spot?_

"It's just that I didn't have any lunch today, and I get pretty cranky when I'm hungry." He finished, flashing a brilliant smile in an attempt to make amends.

Arthur stared at him suspiciously, turning back to the laptop. "That's a lie. I've seen you when you've gone without eating, and at most you get vaguely lethargic." He stated, before pausing and looking up in realization, "But come to think of it, you did skip lunch today, didn't you?"

Alfred nodded, a sheepish smile on his face. As he placed the temperature probe into the first vial, Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. "That's not like you at all," He said before his eyes widened in realization, "You really _are_ sick. I knew it. No wonder you've been acting so oddly this whole time – you need to sit down."

Arthur pushed him down into a nearby wooden stool, fretting over him like a mother hen. Though he was glad that he wasn't upset, he wasn't entirely sure that this situation was any better than the one he had been in before, Arthur pushing and prodding at his pulse point, his forehead, and anywhere else that could possibly be used in his impromptu medical examination.

Of course, it didn't help that he was blushing like a ripe tomato, and by the end of the class Arthur had decided that he needed to be taken home immediately.

The nurse, unfortunately, did not agree.

* * *

 **Oh Alfred, could you get any more awkward? The answer is most likely yes.**

 **I can't explain how cringe-worthy it was to write this. Imagine second hand embarrassment, but tripled.**

 **There's not much to mention here chemistry-wise, other than the fact that that lab afforded a heck ton of free time to sit around and have awkward conversations.**

 **Thank all of you so much for the support you've given this fic! Each and every one of you is the absolute sweetest!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	16. So Long, Farewell

Alfred leaned back into his chair, breathing out a sigh as he played with the elastic on his goggles. It had been about two weeks since he had realized that he was crushing on his lab partner, and it still hadn't gotten any easier for him. Just the sight of Arthur's face nearly made him break out into an uncontrollable blush, which had led to Arthur thinking that he was sick, which led to more touching and, by extension, more blushing. It was a vicious cycle, but aside from the first day he had been able to avoid the inevitable awkwardness that was doing an actual lab with his crush.

The entire situation was both exactly what Alfred wanted and exactly what he wanted to avoid. The two of them in close proximity, with everyone else too far away and too busy to notice what they were doing. If they were dating (and oh, how sweet that phrase sounded in his mind), he could hold his hand under the table, sneak a kiss when the teacher wasn't looking, and whisper all sorts of endearments to the other boy. As it was, however, he was stuck within two feet of him, unable to do anything but stand there awkwardly.

 _Speak of the devil,_ Alfred thought as he heard footsteps entering the room. Arthur shoved his things down onto the table, much more violently than usual, and quickly opened his notebook, fixing it with a glare. Alfred stared at him in a mix of trepidation and surprise, eyeing him as his hand moved swiftly across the page. After a moment, he decided to break the silence and say, "You look angry."

"Oh, do I?" Arthur asked sarcastically, not looking up from his notebook, "I hadn't fucking noticed."

Alfred raised his eyes at the swear word, uncharacteristic of the young man who was usually so adamant about not doing so at school. "What's up?" He asked with unease, knowing the other boy's tendency to lash out at unrelated parties.

Arthur's jaw clenched, his grip on the pen tightening. "I was just having a friendly conversation with Francis."

At this, Alfred was immediately on high alert, ready to pummel Francis into the ground the second his name was brought up. "Fucking Francis," He asked, voice seething, "What the hell did he do?"

Arthur paused in his writing, staring up at Alfred with a look that could boil water. "He asked me again – even though I told him no _last_ time, he still had the bloody fucking audacity to ask me again!" He hissed out, directing his rage at his lab partner, "And then he acts as if _I'm_ being unreasonable!"

"I always knew he was bad news," Alfred agreed, hands balled into fists, "Who does he think he is? What an asshole."

Arthur blinked in surprise, his face relaxing into a half-smile. "You sound as if you're about to defend my virtue." He laughed out, "You don't even know what I'm talking about. You didn't even know I was _gay_ until about a month ago. Why are you so invested in this?"

Alfred desperately tried to think of an excuse other than _Because I hate that he actually dated you and treats you this way because if I got the chance I would treat you like you deserve._ After a few moments, he muttered out, "Hey man, you're one of my best friends. If it matters to you, it matters to me, right?"

Arthur's face contorted back into a scowl. "Yes, of course," He spit out, voice full of sarcasm and bitterness, "We're such good friends."

Alfred stared at him, taken aback at his blunt tone. "Dude, what's that supposed to mean?" He asked, Arthur's attitude finally getting a rise out of him.

At that moment, the rest of the class walked into the room in the large amalgam they usually seemed to travel in, Francis at the head of the pack. He gave an apologetic little smile as he entered, but both Alfred and Arthur glared at his presence. He seemed to back off, understanding that Arthur needed his space (and entirely confused about Alfred), making his way to his seat without another glance at their table.

Alfred could hear Arthur sigh beside him, but when he turned to look he had already turned away, beginning to write in that notebook of his again. Sometimes he wondered what he was always writing in there – why he spent so much time putting his pen against paper that seemed to have no purpose. He had glanced at the cover before, but it held no markings or anything else that might have indicated its purpose. He figured it must have been for English class (Arthur had mentioned his love of the topic often enough that he wouldn't be surprised if he did that class's homework during chemistry).

As Mr. Brewer entered the room, Arthur shut the unmarked notebook and shoved it, as was his custom, underneath all the rest of his possessions. He stood up, the rest of the students following in tandem as they lined up to have their lab books signed. Alfred was the first to enter the lab, finding his way to their space on the large expanse of lab table and marking it as his own by plopping his materials down on its surface.

Arthur entered second, grabbing some of the necessary beakers on his way to their spot. He sat them down gently with an exhausted smile directed towards Alfred. "Sorry for snapping at you," He began, seeming to him both reluctant and genuinely apologetic, "I'm just a bit frustrated."

 _Yeah, I know the feeling_ , Alfred thought, trying his hardest not to think about his feelings for the other boy. "It's fine," He assured him, "I mean, I know what it's like to get angry about stuff. It's not like I'm gonna hate you for it."

Arthur smiled at him gratefully, beginning to mark the slips of paper they'd been provided with various markers. "Thank you." He replied, the stress seeming to melt right off of his face.

"No problem!" Alfred returned, grabbing the beakers and setting pencils on the tops of them, "Hey, by the way, are you coming over to discuss this lab after school today? I know chromatography isn't one of your strong points."

Arthur grimaced. "I can't," He almost seemed to whine, "Allistor has a date or something, so he can't pick me up. But you could call me or something, maybe we could discuss it that way?"

Alfred frowned at the thought (he had been planning on showing Arthur his new Captain America poster), but nodded anyway. "Yeah, that'd be cool." He replied, "I mean, obviously not as cool as you actually being there, but still pretty cool."

"Good," Arthur responded with a smile, "I'll look forward to it, then."

* * *

Alfred hopped off of the bus, his bookbag hung haphazardly over his shoulder as he made his way inside. He followed Matthew through the door as usual, but the minute his brother disappeared out of the door once more to meet up with some of his friends, he whipped out his phone and dialed Arthur's number.

After a few moments, he picked up, voice sounding higher and breathier over the phone than it did in real life. "Hello?"

Alfred grinned just at the sound of it. "Hey, Artie!" He exclaimed, "It's Alfred! I mean, you probably knew that because this is your cell phone and my name is hopefully programmed into your contacts, but whatever!"

He could hear Arthur's soft laugh on the other line, before he stated, "Yes, Alfred, I knew it was you."

"Oh. Yeah, that's good," He stuttered out, half blushing at having the other's voice pressed so intimately against his ear, "I mean, I totally expected it."

Another soft laugh, this time accompanied by the rustling of paper. "Anyway," Arthur continued, "Do you have your things ready? So that we can accomplish some semblance of order here?"

"Um, sure," He lied, before his eyes widened in realization, "H-hey, wait! I almost forgot! I was going to show you this thing I got!"

He could almost _hear_ Arthur rolling his eyes. "You git, I can't see anything through the phone." He reasoned, "You'll just have to wait until next time I'm there."

"But _Artie_ ," He whined, "I need to show it to you right now!"

Arthur sighed. "Fine, if you must," He agreed, "But I hope you know that I can't actually see it."

"It doesn't matter," He argued as he made his way towards his bedroom, "I just need to show it to you."

"Of course you do," He replied, a smile in his voice.

"Alright," He stated, turning open the doorknob to his room, "So I got this literally like two days ago and it's, like…"

His voice trailed off, becoming soft and weak near the end. "Alfred?" Arthur asked, a little confused, "What is it?"

"I, uh…" Alfred stopped and then started again, his voice shaky as tears began to well up in his eyes, "Well, it's…"

"Alfred?" Arthur asked, worry evident in his tone, "What happened? What's the matter?"

When Alfred failed to respond, he flew into a panic. "Oh god, you're hurt aren't you? That's it, I'm coming over there." He stated, noises of hurriedly shifting paper coming from his line, "Where did Allistor put the keys? I think I remember how to get to your house from here but I don't know, I've never driven it before."

"A-Arthur, calm down, I'm not hurt," He managed to choke out, the tears he was holding back apparent in his voice.

"Then what is it?" He asked, still sounding vaguely terrified, "Is it Matthew? Your parents? What?"

"N-no, it's," He stated, trying to remain composed, "Nobody's hurt, Arthur, it's just – my p-pillow. The Captain America o-one."

"What about it?" He questioned, thoroughly confused.

"It, um," He explained, looking down at the pile of ripped fabric and stuffing, "I – I think Paw Revere got to it. I-it's really not m-much of a pillow now."

"Oh, Alfie, I'm so sorry." He whispered, and with that Alfred began to cry, all the pent up tears flowing out at once. He couldn't speak over the hiccupping sobs, though not for lack of trying. After a few halting stops and starts, Arthur finally interrupted him.

"Shh, love," He comforted, "You don't have to talk. I'll be over in five minutes."

He could hear, between the mass of tears and heaving breaths, the words 'no' and 'illegal', and he clicked his teeth in frustration. "Alfred, I'm not just going to leave you sobbing on the floor alone. I'm coming over."

"B-but you c-c-c- _can't_!" He managed to stutter out, "You'll get h-hurt!"

That thought seemed to spur another round of crying, and Arthur tried his best to calm him. "Alright, fine, I won't drive," He acquiesced, "I'll walk. It'll take longer, but if it will soothe your worries, I'll do it."

Fifteen minutes later he was there, out of breath from having run the whole way. He nudged open the unlocked door, padding his way through the house until he came to Alfred's bedroom, where he could hear the other boy continuing to sniffle. As he pushed the door open, Alfred turned from his position on the floor, face red and ragged from crying, and he whispered, as soft and sympathetically that he could, "Oh, Alfred."

Alfred's face crumpled at that, a new round of sobs starting, and Arthur kneeled down beside him, pulling one of the fabric scraps from his hands and enveloping him in his arms. "Shh, it'll be alright. I'm here now. I'm here."

Alfred's only response was to bury his face into Arthur's shoulder, wrapping his arms around the other boy as he had dreamed so many times before (but not in this situation – never in this situation). That pillow had meant so much to him, had symbolized so much hope for the lost boy – but then again, so did Arthur. Arthur, who had come even though he told him not to. Arthur, who was holding him, rubbing his back and whispering sweet comforts into his ear. Arthur, who was letting him rub his tear-and-snot covered face on one of his best sweaters.

Behind the pain of what seemed like his lost hope, he could feel something warm welling up in his chest.

* * *

 **Fun fact! Arthur wasn't actually supposed to go to his house, but he wouldn't let me write him staying on the phone. That jerk.**

 **Well this chapter is a little late, even though it wasn't supposed to be! I got the chapter all done, and then it turned out that the wifi wasn't working. Isn't technology amazing?**

 **Even though there wasn't much of the chromatography lab mentioned in this, it's still one of my favorite labs and I wish I could've been able to put more of it in. You pretend to be part of a crime scene investigation and you have to figure out which marker was used. It's pretty interesting.**

 **Thank you so much for all the support you've given this, and I'm so sorry that this chapter was late!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	17. Viva La Pluto

Everything seemed to change for Alfred after he found his pillow ripped into shreds, both for good and for bad. On one end, his friendship with Arthur had seemed to grow from the simple hanging out they had done before – he felt more connected to the other, knowing that he would be there for him in a situation like that. The bad changes, however, almost seemed to override the good.

He had gone into a kind of depressive period – his smiles less bright, his laughs less boisterous. He still tried to keep it up, of course, but there was only so much he could do. That pillow had meant so much to him – it was given to him right around when he had gotten his glasses, and had kickstarted the superhero obsession that he relied on in times of distress. This time, however, he didn't have that to rely on, and it had thrown everything into a downward spiral.

Arthur tried to help the best he could, and every time he did Alfred could feel that warm feeling welling up inside him, so contrary to his usual mood these days. It was almost as if he could sense when the other boy was feeling down, coming to his rescue almost immediately with something or another to take his mind off of it. He was so gentle with him, so patient and kind even though he hadn't even explained to him the reason it upset him so much, that Alfred often wondered how he could have been hiding that side of him all this time.

Alfred sat thinking in the middle of chemistry class, his eyes focused on the board but his attention elsewhere. It was unusual for the young man to not pay attention to a lecture, his grades having been of the utmost importance for so long, and yet he couldn't seem to keep his thoughts on the lesson at hand. The teacher was drawing hexagons on the board for some reason, and he managed to copy one down before his mind drifted off again.

A few seconds later he felt something bump into his elbow, looking down to see a notebook by his side and Arthur staring at him with a pointed gaze. He glanced at the page, finding a line written down in Arthur's perfect handwriting.

 _Are you alright?_ It asked, the cursive scrawl seeming to convey his concern in ever curve.

Alfred picked up his own pen, bringing it to the page and writing out his own reply. _Yes? Dude, why are you even asking that in the middle of class?_

He passed the paper back over to Arthur, who read over his note with a frown and furiously scribbling down his answer. _Alfred, don't play dumb. I know you, and I know that the fact that you're not paying attention to the teacher means something is wrong. Now what is it?_

 _I'm totally paying attention!_ He defended.

Arthur rolled his eyes as he read the message. _Oh, you are, are you? Then what does the little asterisk on the diagram mean?_

Alfred stared at the board, eyeing the symbol that Arthur had pointing out and trying to figure out what it could possibly mean in a matter of seconds. _It's the special bond, duh,_ He wrote out, pushing the notebook back over to Arthur with what he hoped was an air of confidence.

 _It's an anti-bonding orbital, but good guess,_ really _. Now tell me what's wrong._ He replied, his writing more sloppy near the end as he wrote out his frustrations.

Alfred turned his head sideways as he read Arthur's reply. _Dude, how did you manage to write in italics? That's seriously cool, you should teach me how to do it._

 _Don't change the subject!_ Arthur scrawled out.

 _I'm not changing the subject! That's just super cool!_ He refuted, trying his hardest to change the subject.

Arthur glared at him over the notebook. _What is wrong, Alfred?_

 _It's nothing!_ He wrote out, hoping the exclamation point would seem casual and not like he was desperate to end the conversation right then and right there.

Arthur didn't even bother replying. He pushed the notebook back towards Alfred without even picking up his pen, one eyebrow raised. Alfred inwardly grumbled, scrawling down another answer that would be more satisfactory to the other. _What are you, my mom? I've just been thinking, ya know, about the pillow and stuff._

 _Oh, Alfred_ , He began (Alfred had noticed that he said that a lot when he was upset), _It's over now. It was an object and now it's gone, and while that's sad you oughtn't to beat yourself up over it._

 _Yeah, I know_ , Alfred replied, pushing the notebook back and not intending to reply to whatever Arthur told him next. He knew that he meant well, and even just the fact that he was _trying_ to help filled him with affection for the other boy, but the truth was that he didn't understand what was actually going on. He probably thought that Alfred was being stupid and crying over some random inanimate object, but it was so much more than that – or at least, it felt like that to him.

Arthur pushed the notebook back a little later than it usually would have taken him to write a reply, and he glanced down, expecting some paragraph-long lecture on how he shouldn't get attached to material possessions or something. When he looked, however, it wasn't anything like that at all.

 _I heard the other day that they're contemplating reinstating Pluto as a planet,_ He had written, his handwriting as perfect as ever.

Alfred had to hold back a grin as he replied, _If you're lying I swear I'll kick your ass all the way out of the Milky Way._

 _Cross my heart. You seem awfully invested in this though._ He wrote back, a small smirk on his face as he watched Alfred read the message.

 _Pluto is a planet and indigo is a color and if they try to take away anything else I know and love and tell me it's not real I will personally go to their house and fight them,_ He replied, watching as Arthur laughed at his response. Something on his face, however, seemed more relieved than amused, and Alfred's eyes widened as he realized that, instead of just spouting out random things for the fun of it, he was trying to distract him so that he wouldn't be upset. He could feel something jolting in his chest, his face reddening as he grasped that Arthur was doing this all for _him._

As Arthur began writing his reply, however, the door opened and in walked an office worker, one of the kids with free periods who were sent around to classes to give out various notes. The girl handed an orange slip of paper to Mr. Brewer and swiftly left the room, leaving the class in silence as the teacher looked over the writing on the paper. After a moment of deliberation, he walked around his desk and quietly handed it to Arthur, who stared at it in confusion.

"I have a dentist's appointment?" He asked, completely bewildered.

The teacher shrugged, nodding. "Apparently so." He answered.

Arthur looked at the paper once more before hurriedly packing up his things, trying his hardest to shove them into a neat pile before standing up out of his seat. He smiled at Alfred, giving him a haphazard wave before quickly exiting the room, in a hurry to get to his locker and pack up the rest of his things.

Alfred watched him go, surprised by the sudden turn of events, only turning back to his table when Arthur had closed the door behind him. The teacher had returned to lecturing, but Alfred's attention was caught by the small unmarked notebook still lying on the table. He discreetly slid it over towards his things, not wanting Mr. Brewer to know that he had left it there and make him later for his appointment than he already was by calling him back to get it. Alfred could just give it to him next time he came over to study.

He tried to push it off to the side as he took notes (he thought it might be pretty important now that Arthur wasn't there to pick up on his slack), but the book kept pulling his eyes away from the lecture. He slid it a little closer to him, telling himself that he was just going to look at the cover and not do anything that his friend might consider an invasion of privacy.

The book was tiny by practically any standards. It could fit entirely onto the palm of his hand when it was closed, a small ribbon working as a placeholder lying off of the side. It looked fairly old, or perhaps it was just well-worn – the fabric that it was bound it was fraying at the edges, at any rate. It was a soft, earthy brown, but even up close it held no markings that could indicate what it was or what it was used for.

He quickly tucked it underneath his things, determined not to think of it until he saw Arthur next. That promise was easier made than executed, however, and the rest of the day the little notebook was on his mind. He managed to leave it in his bag at least, having shoved it in his locker after chemistry class. It stayed in there until he got home, exhausted from another long day of being the honors student he was.

* * *

He walked into his house right behind Matthew, shoving his bookbag onto the kitchen table as he entered the room to get a snack. He grabbed a slice of leftover pizza out of the fridge (which was _totally_ a snack, regardless of what Matthew said) and plopped down on the couch to watch TV. _I'm not even interested in the notebook_ , he told himself, _I'm not even thinking about it. In fact, I may even forget about it until Arthur mentions it!_

He kept that mindset for all of three minutes, until he had to admit that it just wouldn't get out of his head. The notebook that the other boy had been writing who-knew-what in for as long as he had known him was now lying, completely unguarded, inside of his bookbag. Arthur wasn't anywhere near him, and couldn't possibly unexpectedly burst into his house like he could somewhere at school. There was nothing stopping him from just walking over and taking a small peek at the contents of the book, just to soothe his curiosity.

It was wrong on so many levels, however, to just invade his friend's privacy as if it was nothing. For one, it certainly wouldn't help his case any if he ever _did_ work up the courage to ask the other boy out. And, more importantly, it would completely invalidate the trust that Arthur had put into him. After letting him see into his vulnerabilities (and even more surprising, letting him help), it would be awful of him to do something like that. Of course, he had never _specifically_ told him not to read the book, or even mentioned the fact that it existed at all, but he reasoned that it was _because_ Arthur trusted him that he hadn't felt the need to tell him that.

Alfred placed his face into his hands, groaning into his hands. He _knew_ that it was wrong, knew that the only things that could come of it were awful and horrible, things that he would never want to happen, but he couldn't help it. He had grown up a curious boy, finding himself in troublesome situations more than his fair share of times simply because he wanted to _know_ something. And at that moment, there was nothing that he wanted to know more than what was written in that notebook.

In a swift, sudden movement, he got up off of the couch, practically sprinting into the kitchen. He snatched the book up out of his bag, hurriedly making his way into his bedroom. Once he had reached the darkened room he simply stared down at the book, thinking through his options once more. If he read it, he might be able to know what Arthur was thinking, how he felt. But, if he read it, he'd be destroying everything that he had worked so hard for between them, and everything that he might have been able to make in the future.

He bit his lip and grasped the book tighter for a moment, before thrusting it in between the pages of a comic book he had lying open and shoving both of them into his bookshelf. He couldn't bear to part with it just yet.

* * *

 **Our nerd is making some pretty morally dubious decisions, hiding Arthur's notebook in his room. For shame, Alfred, for shame.**

 **For the record, the hexagons that the teacher was drawing on the board were molecular orbital diagrams, which are relatively easy once you understand what exactly it is that they are (and, of course, if you don't spend the lecture on them staring off into space).**

 **Thank you all so much for the love you've given this fic! I know that it's not much comparatively, but I really never expected so many people to enjoy it! Really, every single one of you is amazing.**

 **~Alix Marie**


	18. Beneath the Milky Twilight

Alfred ran his hand along the side of the notebook, feeling the worn fabric as he had done so many times before. Contrary to what he had promised himself, the little book had remained in his room much longer than he intended, just sitting on his bookshelf under the covers of his comics. He felt guilty about it, of course – the first time that Arthur had asked him in a panic if he had seen it, he nearly gave it to him right then and there. Even when Arthur came over to study, it remained on the shelf, though every time he vowed that he would give it to him.

He had never read it though – at least he could hold a small amount of pride over that fact. Only a small amount, of course, because he desperately wanted to. It had become almost an obsession of his, taking the book out and rubbing his hands over the cover, wondering what it contained. His internal debate lasted weeks, him slowly watching Arthur seem to forget about its existence, until the holiday season was in full swing. On the last day of school before Christmas break, however, Alfred's guilt had gotten hold of him, and he had stuffed the book into his bag before he left that day.

Unfortunately, his feelings that morning had taken a complete turn, leading to him sitting and rubbing his hands over the book once more. The chemistry room was empty as he had arrived very early – they'd taken their final the day before, so they'd be having a food day, and Alfred was given permission to arrive early to set up. It had taken about thirty seconds, and now he was left sitting alone, contemplating the book in his hands.

 _I'll give it back either way_ , He reasoned, _So what would it hurt if I just looked at it a little?_

He glanced around, biting his lip. He'd argued with himself many times over the notebook, telling himself to just read it and get it over with or to hand it back to Arthur as would be the right thing to do. The middle of his chemistry classroom, where he could walk in at any moment, certainly wasn't the best place to do something like that. But it was the last day of school before break, and he would probably never have a chance like this again – he had to read it. Holding the book underneath the table where no one could see it if they walked in, he slowly opened the pages and glanced down to see their contents.

 _It's…poetry,_ Alfred thought in surprise, looking at the neatly organized lines written in Arthur's scrawling script. He flipped through a few more pages – all poetry. He didn't know why, but this turn of events was shocking to him. He had imagined there being many things written down in that book, but he had never even considered that he might be writing poetry. He glanced around the room once more before bending down to read one of the poems.

 _Such shining blue skies, bright for all to see_

 _Yet imagine them staring at me with such love_

 _That I could run my fingers along that face_

 _Would you glance at me, sky?_

 _That I might cup the sun in my hands_

Alfred crinkled his nose. He never really liked poetry that much in the first place, but free-form was his absolute least favorite. It was so ambiguous, none of it made sense. What was Arthur even trying to convey with that? It didn't make any sense. He flipped forward a few pages, bending down to read another.

 _I fear for him_

 _And my worry worries me_

 _That a small drop of acid_

 _Placed on a hard, resilient hand_

 _Could cause in me such a harsh reaction_

 _I fear for falling again_

Alfred's eyes widened a little in recognition. This was about when he had stuck his hand in acid! Of course, he didn't really understand any of the rest of it, but at least he knew that these were poems about Arthur's actual life and not just abstract musings. He turned another few pages, reading another.

 _There was burning_

 _But more than that there were soft hands_

 _And a kind face_

 _And such a feeling of warmth_

 _That I could forget, so easily_

 _That I was forever stained_

Alfred grinned, happy that he was getting the hang of deciphering these poems. This one was definitely about that time where Arthur had gotten nitric acid on himself, no doubt about it. Something seemed to be nagging him at the back of his mind, but he ignored it, reading on.

 _He asked me to eat_

 _And I agreed_

 _Not knowing all that he didn't know of me_

 _And assuming that my own feelings would project_

 _Who I am towards someone_

 _Who uses the word friend so liberally_

 _As if it isn't the most derogatory of terms_

Alfred looked at the book in confusion. It was definitely about the first time they ate lunch together, but what was the rest of it supposed to mean? Did Arthur not want to be friends with him? The nagging feeling at the back of his mind grew stronger, but he continued to read, skipping ahead a few more pages.

 _He cries_

 _And does he know that his tears are acid to me?_

 _That they burn through my skin and make my heart ache_

 _Oh, darling, don't cry over such silly things_

 _For I shall hold you as long as you wish_

 _And inanimate things, hopeful though they may be_

 _Cannot love you as much as I do_

Alfred's hands stilled, his face heating up as he stared at the poem. It was obvious what this one was about. He had only cried once in front of Arthur, when his pillow had been ripped to shreds, but this couldn't be about that. It simply couldn't – there was no way that Arthur could have written those words about him. There was no way that Arthur could _love_ him.

As he read through other poems, however, his doubt seemed to slip away. Almost every single one of them was about him – his hair, his eyes, his smile. And then, just as sudden as his confusion slipped away, a new feeling seemed to grasp him. Something warm and pleasant rose up in his chest as he thought about the whole situation. Arthur liked him back. Arthur _loved_ him.

 _Do I love Arthur_? He asked himself, _I know that I like him plenty, but do I love him?_

He had never even thought the words before, but the minute they occurred to him they simply clicked within his mind. Of course he loved Arthur. How could he not? The other boy seemed to be completely perfect for him. They did argue, and weren't always on the same page about everything, but that was part of why he loved him – they could argue without hate, and they always made up in the end. He was handsome, and kind, and absolutely wonderful, and Alfred loved him.

Suddenly, he could hear footsteps nearing the room, and he slammed the book closed, shoving it behind the stack of chemistry workbooks on the table behind him. Arthur shuffled into the room, a small smile on his face, not seeming to notice that Alfred was even there. He placed a box of cookies onto the table that held the rest of the food and turned towards his seat, looking surprised as his eyes met his lab partner.

"Alfred!" He exclaimed almost nervously, "I didn't expect you to be here so early."

"Y-yeah, I wasn't supposed to be," He stuttered, trying to act as if he hadn't just been reading what was essentially the other's diary, "But Mr. Brewer needed me to come in and set the stuff up since he was going to be a little late."

"Oh," Arthur stated, twisting his hands around the handles of the bag he was carrying, "I see."

"Yeah." Alfred replied, unable to think of anything else to say. They sat there in awkward silence for a moment before Alfred forced himself to say, "Hey, you know how you lost your notebook a while back?"

"Yes," Arthur replied, the slightest hint of hope tugging at his voice.

"I think I might have found it," He lied, standing up to reach behind the chemistry workbooks, "I don't know if it's yours, but it didn't really look like it belonged with the chem books so I thought I'd ask."

Arthur's eyes widened as he was handed the little brown book, flipping through the pages for a moment before looking back up at Alfred. "Yes, this is mine! Thank you so much for finding it, I was so worried that it'd been lost forever."

Alfred could feel the guilt building up in the pit of his stomach, but he crushed it down, reasoning that even though he'd lied about where it had been, he'd at least given it back in the first place. That was better than nothing, right?

"Yeah, man, that would've sucked," He replied, twisting his hands under the table. Arthur shoved the book into his things and sat down in his chair. The air in the room seemed to turn awkward once more, Alfred unable to speak under the weight of his new knowledge and Arthur seeming as if he was trying and failing to bring something up. His hands twisted in the handles of the bag once more, and he glanced up at the clock before looking around the room.

Eventually, Arthur turned back to look at him, face slightly pink. "So yesterday you gave me your Christmas present – really, thank you for that. I didn't even know they _sold_ matching sets of Jane Austen's works – and I couldn't give you anything back because my gift for you was still at home, and – well, here." He rambled, shoving the bag into Alfred's hands, his face thoroughly flushed by this point.

Alfred stared at the bag in surprise for a moment, not having realized it was for him, before reaching inside and pulling out – a pillow. It was soft, made of the kind of fabric that baby blankets were made of, and had Captain America's shield embroidered into the front. As he stared down at it in amazement, Arthur began to speak, Alfred looking up to see him wringing his hands together.

"I know that it meant a lot to you, and you seemed so absolutely crushed when it was ruined," He rambled, looking anywhere but at Alfred, "So I decided to sew you a new one. I know it's not perfect, and it's not even close to the quality of the other –"

"You made this?" Alfred asked incredulously, interrupting him. Arthur slowly turned to look at him, nodding quickly and biting his lip. He stared back down at the pillow, running his hands over the stitches and knowing that Arthur had done every single one of them _for him_.

He looked back up at him, tears welling up in his eyes. "It's – I love it."

"You're crying." Arthur stated, worry in his tone. Alfred let out a small laugh, smiling as the tears began streaming down his face. Arthur had done all of this for him. Had spent countless hours sewing him this damn pillow because he'd been upset about the other one. How could he ever explain how much that meant to him?

"Yeah, I guess I am," He replied, reaching up and wiping his eyes before staring at the other with a look of wonder.

"W-what's wrong?" Arthur asked, concern written on his face, "Is it bad? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to drudge up bad memories, I was just trying to help. _Please_ don't cry."

Alfred laughed again, looking down at the other boy. "No, it's perfect." He assured him, unable to tear himself away from those green eyes, "It's perfect."

As he stared at his lab partner, however, he hoped that the other boy knew that what he really meant was that _he_ was perfect. He could feel something rising up in his chest, and this time he immediately recognized it as love, warm and soft, filling him as he stared at Arthur. He could feel that pull in his chest, that magnetic feeling that he had felt many times before but had never followed, and allowed it to bring him towards him.

He lifted a hand, cupping it around Arthur's chin, watching as those beautiful green eyes widened. He pulled him forward, getting closer and closer until they were barely an inch apart, and then he whispered against his lips, "Thank you."

And then he bridged the gap, sliding his eyes closed as their lips met. _They're just as soft as I imagined_ , He thought as he ran his thumb across Arthur's cheek. After a few seconds he pulled back, Arthur standing stock-still as he stared up at him. Before he could say anything, however, the rest of the class began to shuffle in, even Mr. Brewer entering from the door that led to the lab.

As everyone started talking and eating, Alfred sat down, embarrassed. He couldn't believe that he had just done that – maybe he had completely misinterpreted things? What if that poem was about someone else, and he had just assumed it was about him? Before he could worry any more, however, he could feel Arthur reaching over and jabbing him, hard, with something vaguely sharp. He looked over at him in shock, holding his now bleeding hand with the other, but Arthur wasn't even looking at him.

"Mr. Brewer," Arthur asked, voice all business, "Alfred's hand seems to be bleeding. Would it be all right if I accompanied him to the nurse?"

The teacher nodded his consent, and the Arthur was grabbing his wrist, dragging him through the door to the chemistry lab. "You stabbed me!" Alfred complained, even though he had already stopped bleeding from the small prick.

"It was necessary," Arthur reasoned, voice still very business-like as he dragged him through the lab, taking a right into a small hallway that Alfred had never been in before.

"Uh, Arthur?" He pointed out, "This isn't the way to the nurse's office."

"I'm aware." He stated, opening an unmarked door and shoving Alfred inside. It was almost pitch black save for the light coming from the doorway. As Arthur turned on the light, he looked around him, trying to figure out where exactly it was that they were. It appeared to be a small planetarium, looking as if it had been unused for years. Before he could see anything more, however, the door was shut and Arthur was slamming him against the wall, pressing his mouth back up against his.

Those soft lips were moving against his own, hands reaching up and running through his hair. It took him a few seconds to adjust, but once he realized what was happening he responded in kind, cupping Arthur's face once more. He slid his eyes shut, reveling in the feeling of him being so close. He could feel the other grasping at his hair, pulling him closer, and he allowed him to, smiling into the kiss.

Arthur pulled back, gasping for breath, moving his hands down to rest on Alfred's shoulders. "I thought you didn't like guys," He whispered, staring up at the other boy in the dim light that the planetarium afforded.

"Up until a few months ago, so did I." He responded, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smile as he shrugged, "Surprise, I'm bisexual."

Arthur laughed, his voice pealing like bells in the empty room. "I have been waiting for this since the third week of school." He smiled, teeth gleaming in the low light, "In case you couldn't tell, I've been very much so infatuated with you."

"I couldn't, actually," Alfred said sheepishly, rubbing the hand that _wasn't_ still cupping Arthur's cheek along the back of his neck, "I just kinda figured 'screw it, what's the worst that could happen?', ya know? I wanted to kiss you, so I did."

Arthur's face flushed, an embarrassed smile tugging at his kiss-swollen lips. "That you did." He half-whispered, staring up at Alfred with tenderness in his eyes.

"So, um," Alfred began, biting his lip as he looked at the other boy, "I mean, I guess I probably should have asked this earlier, like, before I kissed you and stuff. And also before _you_ kissed _me_ , or maybe like somewhere in the middle there, but I was pretty preoccupied because you had just _stabbed_ me –"

"Alfred," Arthur gave him a pointed look, "You're rambling."

"Right." He answered, a flush filling up his own cheeks, "Anyway, I was just wondering if maybe you'd wanna be my boyfriend. You don't have to if you don't want to! I mean, I'd get it if you just wanted to kiss and not actually be in a relationship, but –"

"I do!" He burst out hurriedly, before looking at the other in embarrassment, "That is to say, well, I – I would love to be your boyfriend."

Alfred's face seemed to light up, his smile brighter than Arthur had ever seen, and he picked him up, swinging him around. "Yes!" He exclaimed over his new boyfriend's giggling laughs.

"Put me down, you oaf!" He demanded half-heartedly, pushing his hands against Alfred's chest.

"Nuh-uh," He replied, tugging him even closer to his body, "You're all mine now, sweetheart, and I ain't ever gonna let you go unless you tell me to."

"I just _did_ tell you to!" He argued.

"Yeah, but you didn't mean it." He laughed out, resting his chin on the other's head as he enveloped him in an embrace.

They stayed that way for the rest of the period.

* * *

 **Well that sure lasted a thousand words more than it was supposed to! These nerds just would not stop being written, no matter how hard I tried.**

 **I swear, I almost got a toothache writing this kind of stuff. It's not all good in paradise though – Alfred still violated his trust by reading his notebook, and** _ **neither**_ **of them have admitted that they love each other (even though Alfred already knows).**

 **There's a little planetarium in our school that hasn't been used in years because the astronomy teacher seems to think it's not important. I didn't even know it existed until last year when we used it for a hydrogen spectrum experiment.**

 **Thank you all so much for reviewing/following/favoriting, and even just reading my story! I really appreciate each and every single one of you!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	19. Baby, It's Cold Outside

Alfred rubbed his hands together, cupping them and bringing them towards his face as he tried to work up the nerve to ring the doorbell. The middle of winter (a few days before Christmas, no less) wasn't really the _best_ time for a first date, but he couldn't help himself – he wasn't a very patient person. After all, he and Arthur had just gotten together on the last day before break, and to spend their first two weeks as a couple without seeing each other would have been awful.

Alfred had been the one to suggest the idea to his boyfriend (the word still brought a warm flush to his face), and he'd been almost uncharacteristically excited about the idea. They'd agreed that he'd show up at Arthur's house the Monday after their last day, and they'd go somewhere from there. His original intention had been to surprise him with what they'd be doing, to not let him know until they were actually there, but now he was having doubts. What if Arthur didn't like it?

He lifted one of his hands, pressing a gloved finger against the doorbell. He could hear a faint ringing in the distance, and then the door was opening. Unfortunately, the person standing in front of him wasn't Arthur, but an irritable-looking redhead. Alfred squared his shoulders, determined not to be intimidated, before asking, "Is Arthur here?"

The man looked him up and down, a critical expression on his face. "Depends. Who are you?"

"I'm Alfred F. Jones!" He exclaimed, a grin sliding onto his face, "I'm Arthur's boyfriend!"

The redhead seemed to glower, leaning out of the door to loom over him. "Oh yeah?" He asked, sarcasm filling his tone, "And what makes ya think that you're good enough for my brother?"

Alfred paled, eyes widening as the man glared down at him. "I-I…well, I m-mean…" He stuttered, genuinely frightened (somehow, the Scottish accent made everything that much more terrifying).

"Allistor!" A voice called angrily from the distance, accompanied the sound of stomping footsteps. Arthur appeared in the doorway, bundled up in a coat, hat, and scarf, and tugged on his brother's ear. "You better not be doing what I _think_ you're doing. He has been my boyfriend for all of three days, and I won't have you ruin this for me!"

Allistor looked at him sheepishly, pulling his ear out of his little brother's iron grip. "I was just trying to protect ya! Honestly, he could be some kind of lying, cheating, ass of a child."

Arthur leveled his brother with the harshest glare that he had ever seen on his face. "Don't you _dare_ say that again. Alfred would never lie to me, and if you even _insinuate_ that he would I will personally castrate you."

Alfred could feel his heart drop into his stomach at those words, but neither of the brothers noticed, preoccupied in their stare-down. He was happy that Arthur had such faith in him, unfounded though it was, but he still felt immeasurably guilty. _If only I hadn't read his book_ , Alfred mused, but quickly stopped himself. If he hadn't read the book, he never would have gotten up the courage to ask him out.

Eventually Allistor held up his hands in a placating gesture, disrupting the silence as he said, "Alright. Never say I don't know when to back off."

"Thank you." Arthur said, looking vaguely pleased with himself, "Goodbye, Allistor. I'll see you when we get back."

With that, Arthur closed the door on his brother, turning to Alfred with a suddenly shy smile. He reached forward, pulling him close, and placed a small kiss upon his cheek. "Sorry about that," He apologized, "Allistor can be a little…overprotective."

Alfred laughed, pushing his lingering guilt aside. "Yeah, I noticed." He stated, "Hi, by the way."

Arthur's face lifted into a smile, his lips pulling thin as he grinned. "Hello, Alfred." He replied, clasping his hand in Alfred's as they made their way down the sidewalk, "So, where are we going?"

Alfred looked at him out of the corner of his eye, turning left as they reached the end of Arthur's yard. "You dressed nice and warm, like I told you to? With boots and everything?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You can literally see what I'm wearing, you know that I'm dressed warm enough."

Alfred continued to look away from his boyfriend. "I dunno…"

He sighed in exasperation, but a smile was still plastered upon his face. "Yes, I dressed 'nice and warm', you oaf."

"Perfect!" He exclaimed, turning his head and giving him a bright grin before securing Arthur's hand in his and taking off running down the snow-covered sidewalk.

"Alfred, slow down!" Arthur giggled, trying to keep up with his pace, "Al! _Where are we going?_ "

Alfred only laughed in response, still pulling the other along behind him across the slippery sidewalk. They ran for a few blocks in the cold air, eventually slowing when they reached the edge of a local playground. He leaned against the fence, pausing so that the both of them could catch their breath. Arthur looked up at him, his eyes sparkling. "So, is this where you're intending to take me?"

Alfred breathed out a laugh, the air in front of him fogging up. "Not exactly," He admitted, "I mean, yes, but not what we're – I just thought it'd be good to stop running."

Arthur smiled, grasping Alfred's hand closer to his own. "Well, by all means then, lead the way."

He pulled him through the gate and into the park, beginning to cut through the grass (which was less grass at this point and more piles of snow). They trudged their way up a hill, pausing every few seconds to catch their bearings on the steep ground. At the very top of the hill was a small shed, with an old, dilapidated lock keeping it closed. Alfred leaned against the building as he began to twist and pull at it.

"Alfred, it's locked," Arthur stated, "You're not going to be able to get in."

"Just wait," He breathed out, still messing with the lock, "I've almost – there!"

He pulled the lock free from the handle, opening the door and stepping inside while Arthur watched in awe. "How did you do that? It was most certainly locked."

Alfred shook his hair free of snow as Arthur followed him into the small building. "Yeah, it looks like that, doesn't it? Me and Mattie discovered it when we were little. The lock closes, but it doesn't actually _lock_ – it's been broken for years, and nobody's ever noticed but us."

"So what does this have to do with our date?" Arthur asked, genuinely confused. Alfred grinned, turning around and pulling something long and vaguely flat out from behind a pile of old gardening equipment. He held it in front of him as if he was offering a gift, the string trailing down onto the wooden floor.

"I was thinking that we could go sledding," He said, before his face seemed to drop a little, "T-that is, if you want to. I know it's kindof childish and I'd totally understand if you'd rather do something else –"

"I'd love to," Arthur interrupted, grabbing the sled out of his hands and examining it, "I haven't been sledding in years, of course, so you'll most likely need to show me the ropes, no pun intended."

Alfred's grin returned full force, grabbing a small jersey bag before pulling Arthur out of the door and back into the snow. When they reached the edge of the hill, he grabbed the sled from his boyfriend and flipped it over, laying it on the ground. He kneeled, reaching into the bag and pulling out a can of cooking spray.

"What in the _world_ do you have that for?" Arthur asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stood staring down at his boyfriend.

"For sledding," Alfred stated, shaking the can up and beginning to spray it on the bottom of the sled. Arthur's eyes widened as he understood what he meant, and quickly grasped his wrist to stop him.

"Oh no," He said, "You're not going to grease this thing up until it's some sort of death trap."

"Aw, come on Artie!" He pouted, "It's not dangerous! Me and Mattie used to do it all the time, it's perfectly safe."

"Just because you've been lucky up until now doesn't mean that you're not going to end up killing us both." Arthur reasoned, crossing his arms.

Alfred reached up, tugging at his hands. " _Artie_ ," He whined, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes, "Please?"

Arthur bit his lip, trying to remain strong, but eventually broke under the weight of Alfred's pleading face. "Alright, fine," He acquiesced, "But I swear, if I die I'm going to haunt you, twat."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," Alfred responded with a laugh, flipping the sled back over and sitting himself in the front half, "I'm driving!"

Arthur gingerly sat down behind him, grasping onto the sides of the sled. "Uh, Arthur?" Alfred pointed out, "You might wanna hold onto me, not the sled."

His boyfriend glared at him. "Nice try, Alfred," He said with no small amount of sarcasm, "But it is most certainly safer to ground myself on the sled itself."

"Wow," Alfred laughed, shaking his head, "You really _haven't_ been sledding in a while. Oh well, hold on anyway."

With that, he dragged his hands through the snow, pushing them off the lip of the hill and grabbing the reigns just in time. Within seconds, Arthur had released his hold on the sled and thrown his arms around Alfred's middle, grasping onto him for dear life. Alfred simply laughed, dodging them around the few obstacles on the park's mostly clear hill as they sped down it at nearly impossible speeds.

The ride was mostly smooth until they got to the bottom, where the sled vaulted over a small bump and sent them tumbling into the snow. They rolled a bit on the mostly flat ground until their bodies came to a stop, Alfred half-laying across Arthur. They stayed there for a moment, catching their breaths, before Arthur stated, "I'm going to kill you. Get off of me so that I can kill you."

Alfred laughed, pulling his weight slightly off of the smaller boy, moving so that only his head was still on top of him. "There, now it's perfect."

Arthur snickered a bit, pulling Alfred's hat off and carding his hands through his hair. "You do realize that this is the most stereotypically romantic position we could possibly be in, right?"

Alfred shrugged gazing up at him. "Hey man, nitrogen oxygen hydrogen oxygen molybdenum." He stated, completely nonchalant.

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?" Arthur questioned, before thinking through the acronym that the chemical symbols would spell, his eyes widening as he slapped his boyfriend's arm, " _Alfred!_ "

Alfred began laughing uproariously, not caring when he was thrown into the snow as Arthur stood up. "You – you can't _no homo_ me! I'm your _boyfriend!_ We made out all but three days ago!"

Alfred continued to laugh, pulling Arthur back down to the ground and placing a small kiss on his cheek, making the smaller boy grow quiet. "Sorry, sorry!" He whispered into the cold air, trying to stifle his giggles, "What I really meant was _full_ homo."

Arthur snorted a bit at that, but one look at Alfred's face sent them both into fits of laughter.

* * *

They stayed out for many hours after that, just laughing and playing in the snow, occasionally returning to Alfred's shed to warm up (he and Matthew had learned many years ago that there was an outlet near the back, so they decided to store a space heater with the rest of their things). As the sun began to set, however, Arthur began to feel a bit of trepidation.

"It's getting dark, Al," He worried, tugging at the gloves on his hands, "It's probably best if we return. It'll be difficult to find our way back without light."

"Just a little while longer, I promise," Alfred pleaded, beginning to drag Arthur away from the hill they'd been at all day and towards another part of the park, "The date isn't complete until I've shown you this! It's the whole reason I wanted to bring you here in the first place!"

Arthur frowned, but allowed Alfred to drag him along to another wooden fence anyway. "Alright, but don't blame me if Allistor tries to disembowel you."

"Your family sure likes violent metaphors, huh?" Alfred asked as he unlatched the gate and pulled them both inside, trying to shut it discreetly.

"And yours seems to enjoy sneaking into places they're not supposed to be." Arthur responded pointedly as Alfred began to drag him down what seemed like an endless stone staircase.

"Hurry up, we've got to get to the bottom before it happens!" He exclaimed, fumbling his way through another gate in the pitch blackness.

Arthur tried to look at him in confusion, but he could barely even see his face. "Before _what_ happens?" He asked as he felt them step into what seemed like more snow.

Suddenly, everything around them was flooded with light, both of them having to shield their eyes as their surroundings were completely lit up. Once his eyes adjusted to the change, Arthur looked around him, whispering out, "Oh, Alfred, it's _beautiful._ "

They were in what seemed to be a garden, two big black pools glistening in the winter air, covered by old stone bridges that stretched elegantly around in circles. Huge rock walls surrounded them on all sides, disrupted only by the stone staircases that lead up to normal ground. Everything was covered in a soft layer of snow, making the entire scene seem to shine. And surrounding it all – covering the ground and the walls and some even up above them – were lights. Some of them shaped like trees, some like Santa Claus, some like nutcrackers, but all of them letting off a warm glow that seemed to fill the entire place with radiance.

"It used to be a stone quarry," Alfred explained, looking out at the scene before him, "But then somebody abandoned it, and they turned it into a garden. Every Christmas they fill it with lights, but they aren't nearly as popular as they should be. Sometimes I think people don't even know the sunken gardens exists, but I really love them, ya know?"

He turned, looking towards him with his eyes shining with love for the place around him, and Arthur couldn't help himself – he leaned forward and kissed him, running his hands through that hair that glowed so brilliantly in the shining lights.

* * *

 **First date accomplished! These two nerds are finally getting somewhere.**

 **The sunken gardens really are a thing, and they are the coolest thing you will ever see. Of course, it's been illegal to actually go down in the gardens when the lights are there for years, but that doesn't seem to stop anybody.**

 **Thank you all so much for reading! I love you all and appreciate your support for my story so much!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	20. Knock Knock

When Alfred walked into the chemistry classroom on the first day back from Christmas break, he was greeted with the sight of Arthur, half-curled up in his chair, a worried expression on his face as he typed on his phone. Alfred stared at him with one eyebrow raised, not making a sound. To say that is was unusual for the other boy to be on his phone at school would be an understatement – he was practically militaristic about that particular rule, and would leave his phone off and in his locker during the day. It was almost funny to watch him use it, keeping it tucked between his bent legs as if that was less obvious that just outright using it. After a moment, he glanced up, eyes widening as he saw his boyfriend standing in the doorway.

"Alfred!" He exclaimed, shooting up out of his chair, "You're here!"

"Yeah," He said sheepishly, making his way over to their table, "I stayed up kinda late last night and accidentally slept in."

"Oh thank goodness," He exhaled, wringing his hands together, "I had been looking for you and didn't see you, and then you didn't show up for lunch, which was strange enough, so I tried texting you. When you didn't respond I knew that something had to be wrong. You always answer your phone."

Alfred looked at his boyfriend with a half-smirk. "You were worried about me?" He asked, his eyes lighting up.

Arthur scoffed, crossing his arms. "Of course not," He argued, "I was just…"

Alfred laughed, slinging his arm around his shoulder as a blush erupted across his face. "Artie, you don't gotta be embarrassed about it," He teased, "Honestly, I think it's pretty cute."

"Excuse you," Arthur stated, his face red as a tomato, "I am not _cute_ in any way, shape, or form."

Alfred gaped at him. "Dude, how can you say that?" He argued, looking at his boyfriend in confusion, "You're literally the cutest person I've ever met."

"Handsome, maybe. But cute? Not on your life." He said, lips pursed up in what Alfred thought was a _very_ cute pout.

"Trust me. As your boyfriend, a.k.a. the official authority on these things, I know for a fact that you're adorable. _And_ that you were totally worried about me." He said with a smug look on his face, "Besides, you're just being that thing that Kiku said you were. Tsundere or whatever."

"Alright, no, no, and _how_ in the hell could that possibly have come up in any conversation?" Arthur asked, shrugging Alfred's arm off of his shoulder so that he could look at him.

Now it was Alfred's turn to blush, his face heating up as he remembered that the only reason he and Kiku had been having that conversation was because he had been gushing to his best friend the night previous about his new boyfriend's every trait. And he meant _really_ gushing, a lovestruck smile on his face as he clutched the pillow he had made him and told Kiku every last detail. Of course, he couldn't let him know that that was why Kiku had said that (or why he was late for his first day back from break).

"It just did. Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that you were worried about me, and it's cute." He responded with a nod of his head.

Arthur rolled his eyes, and Alfred grasped him by the shoulders. "Okay, so maybe you're not cute," He admitted, lifting one hand to cup his cheek, "But that isn't gonna stop me from thinking that you are. And it's not gonna stop _you_ from being basically perfect."

"You're such a sentimental idiot," Arthur laughed out, shaking his head. A small smile lingered on his face as he reached up to tangle his hands in Alfred's hair, pressing his lips softly against his boyfriend's. Alfred grinned into the kiss, wrapping his other arm around Arthur's back.

Suddenly, there was a small, obviously fake cough coming from the doorway, and they both jumped away from each other, looking very pointedly into opposite directions. A small chuckle followed it, and Alfred turned to see Francis, leaning against the door with a smirk on his face.

"Well," He stated, "It seems as if you two have gotten close."

Arthur scowled, crossing his arms. "Bugger off, Francis. This isn't any of your business."

"Not my business?" He sounded with a gasp, closing the door behind him as he entered the room, "But _mon cher_ Arthur, anything that has to do with _l'amour_ is always my business!"

"Not when it comes to me, it doesn't," Arthur shot back, looking at him with one eyebrow raised.

"You wound me!" Francis laughed out, placing one hand upon his chest.

Alfred looked between them in confusion as they spoke, eventually stuttering out, "W-wait, I thought he was your ex?"

"He is." Arthur stated, giving Francis an unimpressed look, "Unfortunately, we're on relatively good terms."

"But shouldn't he be, I dunno…" Alfred waved his hand around in the air, "Angry? Or jealous? Or something that isn't whatever _this_ is?"

Francis laughed, much to Alfred's continuing confusion. "I never felt anything particularly strong for our _cher_ Arthur. It was more a marriage of convenience." He explained.

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows, turning towards Arthur, who sighed as he placed one hand on the bridge of his nose. "I cannot believe you're making me discuss this, frog," Arthur complained before facing his boyfriend, "We never particularly _liked_ each other. I dated him because I was fourteen and thought that he was my soulmate because he was vaguely attractive. He dated me because I would give him test answers."

With that he glared at Francis, who held his hands up in a placating gesture. "I have apologized many times for that! It's been so many years, you shouldn't still hold a grudge. We are friends, are we not?"

Arthur glared at him. "We're not." He stated before turning back to his table and slamming himself down into his seat.

Francis turned towards Alfred with a smug look. "We are." He corrected, Alfred still staring at the both of them in confusion. There were a few seconds of silence before Francis turned completely towards Arthur, facing him with a conspiratorial look.

"Does he speak French?" He asked, gesturing towards Alfred with one hand. Arthur looked at him guardedly for a moment before shaking his head. Francis sat down across the table from him, Alfred staring on at this exchange in absolute perplexity.

" _Est-ce que tu l'aimes?_ " He asked, a somber look on his face. Alfred watched as Arthur paled, blushed, and furrowed his eyebrows all in quick succession.

"I hardly think that's something you need to know, frog!" He exclaimed, glaring at the man in front of him.

Francis raised one eyebrow, his face still completely serious. "Please, Arthur, from one friend to another. Tell me the truth."

Arthur looked to the side, his face flushed. After a moment of silence, he whispered, "Yes."

Francis smiled, crossing his arms and leaning back into the chair. " _C'est merveilleux! Il est bien pour toi._ "

Arthur scoffed, but Alfred could see his face flush even further, a smile tugging at the sides of his lips. "I appreciate it." He stated, "But don't think this gives you any right to say anything else on this subject! You're still an asshole and I hate you."

"Duly noted," He laughed.

Alfred cleared his throat and the other two looked over towards him. "So can we speak English now?" He pouted, his arms crossed.

Arthur burst out laughing at that, pushing Alfred down into his chair and placing a quick kiss upon his forehead. "Of course, darling," He stated.

"I didn't even know you could _speak_ French," Alfred grumbled in frustration, and Arthur laughed again.

"We're required to take a language class, Alfred. I chose French," He replied, a smirk on his face.

"Yeah, well," he argued, "I'm in Spanish, but that doesn't mean I can _speak_ Spanish."

Arthur laughed once more, and then looked at the door in vague confusion. "Do either of you find it odd that no one else is _here_?" He asked, "Class should have started by now, I'm sure. What on earth is going on?"

Alfred looked at the clock, eyebrows furrowing as he saw the time. "Dude, it's like three minutes past it's supposed to start. What the hell?"

Francis shrugged, leaning back into the chair and placing his feet upon the table. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." He reasoned, "I say we enjoy the time alone, yes?"

He winked at Arthur, which earned him a glare from both of the other boys. Alfred opened his mouth to reprimand the other boy, but Arthur beat him to the punch, yelling, "Wink at me again, and you'll find yourself with one less limb."

At that moment, their teacher ran into the room from the door that lead to the chemistry lab, looking completely flustered. He stood there for a few seconds, catching his breath, before he seemed to finally notice that there were only three students in his classroom. He sat down on the stool at the front of the class, staring at the table where they sat, before asking, "Where is everyone?"

"We don't know," Alfred replied, shrugging his shoulders. Mr. Brewer looked around the room, seeming completely at a loss. Silence filled the air, nobody entirely sure what was going on, before the teacher happened to glance over at the door.

"Why is the door shut?" He asked, turning back to look at the students who stared back at him with blank faces. Eventually, Arthur got up, crossing to the other side of the classroom, and opening the locked door. There in the hallway was the rest of the class, some sitting, some standing. Arthur paled as they all turned to look at him.

"How long have you all been there?" He asked, seeming almost frozen.

After a moment of silence, Antonio spoke up, saying almost apologetically, "A while."

"Oh," He replied, "And how much could you hear?"

They all seemed to look in different directions, nobody entirely meeting his eyes. Eventually, Antonio responded once more, "Everything."

"Ah, I see," He squeaked out, his face white, "And none of you would happen to understand French, would you?"

They all very deliberately looked away at this point, and Arthur erupted into a blush, even his ears tomato red. He turned, walking back to his seat and sitting down without another word, placing his face into his hands. The rest of the class followed suit, vaguely guilty looks on their faces.

Mr. Brewer glanced around the classroom, confusion written plainly on his face. "I feel as if I've missed something," He laughed out, trying to diffuse the clear awkwardness permeating the air, "Welcome back to AP Chemistry anyway, I suppose!"

The class lets out a general laugh, glad to have something else to focus on. As the teacher begins his introductory lecture for the second semester, Alfred glances over, looking at Arthur's still-red face. He was biting his lip, chewing on it like Alfred knew that he did in times of nervousness. He silently pulled his notebook out from underneath his stack of things, opening it and placing it upon the table between them.

 _Hey, are you alright?_ He wrote, shoving the book over towards his boyfriend.

Arthur smirked as he received it, scrawling down, _Now who's worried about who?_

 _Haha, very funny. But seriously, you okay babe?_ He returned, sliding the notebook towards him with a concerned look on his face.

Alfred watched as he read the message, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he began to write back. _Yes, darling, I'm fine. No need to worry._

Next to the end of his message, Arthur had drawn a heart, the tail of it curling around in a spiral. Alfred smiled, looking at the cutesy symbol that seemed to him so indicative of the man next to him, and he felt a swelling in his chest. He couldn't stop himself from breaking into a grin, scrawling down his own sloppily drawn heart in return, and not for the first time he thought about just how much he loved him.

* * *

 **Well first things first, translations! Some of these might be obvious to some of you, but I'm going to put them just for the sake of putting them.**

 _ **Mon cher**_ **– my dear**

 _ **L'amour**_ **– love**

 _ **Est-ce que tu l'aimes**_ **– do you love him?**

 _ **C'est merveilleux! Il est bien pour toi**_ **– Marvelous! He's good for you**

 **Sorry about not posting a chapter yesterday, I was on a college visit the whole day. If it helps my apology, it was sheer torture and I 100% wished that I was writing the whole time.**

 **So now the whole class knows that Arthur loves Alfred, which is pretty mortifying for him. Of course, our lovable nerd Alfred doesn't know, but he tries his hardest to help anyway. There wasn't any science whatsoever this chapter, but to be honest nothing happens the first day back from break anyway (mostly because everyone is pretty out of it the whole day – two weeks without school tends to do that to you).**

 **Thank you all so much for reading/reviewing/following/favoriting! I honestly love every single one of you, and I'm so sorry (again) that I missed a day. Let's hope it doesn't become a habit!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	21. Magnetic Attraction

Alfred stood in the empty hallway, leaning back against one of the lockers as he waited for the rest of the class to arrive. They were meant to be taking a trip to the local university, leaving in the morning and not returning until sixth period. He, for one, was extremely excited – not only did they get to work with equipment that they'd never even seen before, but the time overlapped with his lunch period, meaning that they'd be eating at the college's buffet table of a cafeteria.

He was sure that if Arthur knew that the main reason he wanted to go on this trip was the food he'd smack him upside the head with a comment about 'properly appreciating science', but unfortunately his boyfriend of over a month had fallen sick and couldn't make it to school that day. Alfred had almost laughed when he found out, teasing him for the fact that he seemed to catch a cold every other week (Arthur had blamed it on the 'harsh American weather', whatever that was supposed to mean). Of course, regardless of all his mockery, he was still upset that the boy couldn't be there. He had been looking forward to this trip since the teacher had mentioned it at the beginning of the year, and the fact that he'd be experiencing it alone put a bit of a damper on his usually cheery attitude.

He sighed, drawing one foot up underneath him and leaning his head back against the locker. He wasn't usually the first person to own up to his feelings, but at this point it was obvious even to him – he had fallen for Arthur pretty hard. It was a strange feeling, especially considering his previous relationship experience (i.e. none). At first, of course, he had been utterly infatuated with the boy. Even just the sight of his eyes would set his heart aflutter, his smiles making his face erupt in flames. But over the short amount of time they had been together, those feelings had softened, turning into a warm glow that seemed to bury itself in his chest whenever the other boy was near. He had thought that he'd loved him before, he knew now that he had been so wrong – it was nothing compared to what he felt now.

He was still lost in thought when he felt a hand being placed upon his shoulder, and he jerked around to find Francis staring at him with a bemused smile. Alfred huffed, crossing his arms and slamming himself back against the locker.

"Don't scare me like that, dude," He stated with a out on his face, "It's seriously not cool."

Francis chuckled, facing Alfred before leaning back against the lockers himself. "Apologies, _cher_ ," he said, a smirk playing on his lips, "But I could not help but notice that you seemed to be very…out of sorts, shall we say? What is the matter?"

He ignored him in favor of pulling out his phone and opening it, checking to see if he had received any messages. Francis laughed at that, and Alfred turned to look at him with as much of a glare as he could muster.

"What?" He asked irritably, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

"He is not going on the trip, is he?" He asked, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "And you miss him."

Alfred eyed him warily. "How the hell do you know that? A-and why is it any of your business anyway?"

Francis waved his hand at him dismissively. "I could read it in your eyes. You're an open book, _cher_." He stated, voice echoing through the empty hall, "And regardless of what Arthur may say, we have been very close for most of our lives. He is like a little brother to me. I have every right to be protective."

"But you dated," Alfred pointed out, one eyebrow raised, "That's not exactly a normal sibling relationship."

"Which is exactly why it didn't work. Now, the point that I was trying to make was," His voice got quieter as he leaned toward Alfred with an almost predatorial look on his face, "He is my brother. And if I ever find that you did anything to hurt him, you will have to answer to me. After, of course, he pummels you into the ground."

Alfred visibly gulped at the sudden change in the French boy's attitude. It was intimidating to say the least, but he was determined not to let it get to him. "Y-yeah, well that's good then!" He exclaimed, "Because a hero like me would never hurt Artie!"

"Oh?" Francis questioned, not backing off, "And why should I believe that? You could just be lying to me."

"I'm not!" Alfred exclaimed, exasperated, "I'd never lie when it comes to him!"

"And why is that?" He asked, a challenging look in his eye.

Alfred gritted his teeth, hissing out, "Because I love him you asshole!"

Francis pulled back, the menacing look replaced by a knowing smirk. "Perfect," He stated, "That was all I had wanted to know."

With that he turned, walking down the hallway to greet Katyusha as she rounded the corner. It was only when Francis reached the end of the hallway that Alfred's heart seemed to drop into his stomach. Of course, he would never lie to Arthur – but he already _had_. He had taken the other boy's notebook, read it, and returned it without breathing a word that he had done so. Not only was it an extreme breach of his privacy, but he had _lied_ about the fact that he had done so. What kind of boyfriend was he?

Alfred squared his shoulders. He couldn't let Arthur ever find out about that. It shouldn't be too hard, considering he was the only one in the classroom at the time and he didn't leave any incriminating evidence inside the book itself. That didn't matter, however – regardless of how easy it seemed to be, he couldn't let his guard down for a second. His relationship with Arthur was one of the best things that had ever happened to him, and he couldn't let it end just because he had made a stupid mistake.

His musing was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder, and he turned to tell Francis off once more when he saw that it was Lili standing there, a yellow sundress on her tiny form. "Alfred?" she asked, looking at him almost warily, "Everyone is waiting in the bus."

"Oh, right!" He exclaimed, gathering up what little things he was bringing with him and shoving them into his jacket pocket, "Yeah, sorry, I just zoned out a bit. I'll be right there."

Lili nodded, giving him a shy smile before she walked out the door, Alfred in tow. The bus was different than what he was used to, but then again he should have expected it – nobody would give a class of eight people an entire bus. Instead, they had an old, dilapidated thing, about the size of a car. It was painted white, and the inside looked as if it had seen better days. He jumped up the stairs, giving everyone a sheepish look before making his way to the very last seat. Surprisingly, it hadn't been taken yet. Usually the back was the most popular seating option.

He flopped down into the seat, looking around him cautiously before pulling out his phone. He unlocked it before opening his messages and going straight to the contact labeled 'Babe' with three hearts next to it. There was another few moments of hesitation as he looked around in caution before quickly texting, _Hey, Artie, how's bein sick going?_

Only a few seconds later his phone buzzed, and he picked it up to read, _Aren't you supposed to be on a chemistry trip right now?_

 _Aren't you?_ He returned, smirking at his own joke. He'd known that Arthur would put up a little fight considering his attitude towards following the rules, but he also knew that he'd give up in the end – he was powerless against Alfred's whims. The pause was longer this time, and he could almost see his boyfriend trying to ignore his text.

Eventually, his phone vibrated once more. _You think you're very clever, don't you? You still shouldn't text at school, even if you're not technically there._

 _Aw, but babe, how am I supposed to survive chemistry without talking to you?_ He texted back, a sly smile on his face. Right about now, Arthur would be blushing – or pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. It was occasionally hard to tell whether his boyfriend would find something he did to be cute or stupid (mostly because he usually found him to be both).

 _By actually paying attention to the material at hand, git,_ He returned. Alfred couldn't help the grin that made its way onto his face. The reply wasn't nearly as scalding as it could have been, which meant that he must have been blushing up a storm.

He smiled conspiratorially as he texted back, _You're cute when you blush_ , complete with a winky face at the end.

Arthur's reply came only a few seconds later, his phone receiving the text before he could even exit out of the app. _Im not blushing!_

 _You missed an apostrophe, Mr. Grammar Police,_ He replied, _Which means that you're totally blushing._

His phone buzzed again, but before he could read it the bus pulled into the parking lot of the local university. He slid it into his jacket pocket, regretful that he had to leave the conversation they'd been having in order to listen to college professors drone on about a subject they wouldn't even be studying. He wasn't entirely sure why they were coming to the college, in fact, other than the fact that it would give them an idea of how higher level chemistry classes worked.

He stepped off of the bus, following behind the rest of his class as they shuffled into the building. When they got inside, he breathed a sigh of relief, slipping the jacket off of his shoulders as he basked in the warm air, so contrary to the cold of outside. They all stood there for a few moments, appreciating the change in temperature, before a young woman came in, introducing herself as the professor that would be instructing them that day. She took off down the hallway, the class following her through various corridors and up a few flights of stairs before they came to the college's own lab.

"Now, before we get too far into the room, I'd suggest that you leave anything metal, credit cards, or cell phones in this little cubby here," She stated, pointing towards a few wooden squares by the door, "We have a nuclear magnetic resonance spectrometer in the corner which, while very cool, is still a very powerful magnet. It's better to be safe than sorry!"

Alfred nudged his phone a little further into his jacket pocket before throwing it into one of the little squares, looking at it mournfully before turning back towards the professor. He supposed that he'd have to wait to talk with Arthur until the entire lab was over.

* * *

The three hours he spent alone were some of the slowest he could ever remember experiencing. While all of the instruments were pretty neat, spending so long doing nothing but learning about them had nearly put him to sleep. Once they had finally finished going over the purposes of about half of the instruments, they made their way to the university's dining hall. Alfred gratefully piled his plate high with various foods, sitting down at one of the tables before hurriedly typing off a text.

 _Hey! We're done with the lab finally! I missed you!_ He sent, sending a little heart emoticon to follow his message.

He had gotten through half a slice of pizza when his phone buzzed once again. _You've been gone for all of three hours, you could not possibly have missed me in that time._

Alfred pouted at that, not having gotten the reply he'd been hoping for. _Dude, I totally did. Everything is so boring here without you! Anyway, I'd miss you even if you were gone for, like, five minutes. Plus, you can't tell me that you didn't miss me too!_

He crossed his fingers, hoping that Arthur would reply in kind. He really _had_ missed the other boy in the short amount of time they'd been apart. He'd gotten so used to his snarky comments and sarcastic quips that to be without them was almost torture.

A few seconds later, his phone vibrated. _Alright, I'll admit I did miss you just a little bit,_ He had replied, complete with his own little heart emoticon at the end. Alfred smiled, feeling a sharp tug in his chest as he received the message. Regardless of how he teased the other boy, he really did love him – and even the smallest reminder that those feelings were reciprocated filled him with the kind of joy that he'd rarely felt before.

* * *

 **The NMR spectrometer is really, really cool. Literally and metaphorically. It uses liquid nitrogen to keep liquid helium cold. We're talking like 4K here. Wow, is that cold.**

 **I don't really have much to say about this chapter, other than** _ **wow**_ **has this thing gotten long. I think it's around 50k now. It's kind of amazing that you guys have stuck around this long, and thank you for doing that! Seriously, all of you are the coolest people on the planet. You're cooler than absolute zero.**

 **~Alix Marie**


	22. A Prom-ise

Alfred bit his lip, leaning back into his chair and staring at the glasses in his hands. It had been a while since Matthew had last lectured him on them, the other boy determined to get him to stop using them. He'd thought about it, of course, but only in passing – he wasn't exactly keen to be reminded of exactly why he wore them. Besides, he had other things to worry about now. He didn't have time to think about suddenly stopping the habit he had had for so long.

He wondered what Arthur would think about it if he told him that they were fake. Certainly, the rational boy would think it completely stupid that he had to rely on something as arbitrary as glasses to make himself feel smart. He'd scoff at the very least, maybe make fun of him for being so insecure. _What if he broke up with me?_ He thought, twisting the frames around in his hands, _What if he doesn't want to date me because I'm so self-conscious about my intelligence that I'd lie to him?_

It was practically nightmare fuel for Alfred, imagining the boy that he loved so much laughing at him just like the kids at his old school used to. But what was he supposed to do? He couldn't just stop wearing them. They were his lucky charm at this point – they gave him the confidence to be who he was without having to worry about being shoved into a locker. If he took them off, he wouldn't be the same person, and he was absolutely sure that Arthur wouldn't want to be with him anymore.

He sighed, trying to direct his thoughts towards any other possible topics, but the only other thing on his mind was his lingering guilt over reading Arthur's notebook. Why was it that the only things he could think of at the moment made him feel like his boyfriend was going to break up with him? There had to be something more uplifting to think about.

At that moment, Arthur walked in the room, a small smile lighting on his face. Alfred forcibly tugged the corners of his mouth up, not wanting him to know that he'd been upset. His boyfriend walked across the room, leaning over and pressing a small kiss to his temple before uttering, "Hello, sweetheart."

"Hey, bae!" He replied, grinning as Arthur's face scrunched up upon hearing the word.

"Ugh, don't call me that," He insisted, "It makes me feel like I'm your little cheerleader girlfriend."

"Are you trying to say that you _aren't_ my little cheerleader girlfriend?" He asked with a shit-eating grin on his face, prompting Arthur to elbow him in the side, "Ow, ow, okay, sorry! You aren't my cheerleader girlfriend!"

"I don't know," Arthur continued, a sly grin appearing on his own face, "I'm feeling awfully upset right now. I think you're going to have to beg to earn my forgiveness."

Alfred stared at him, shock plain on his features. "What?" He exclaimed, "Nuh-uh, man. I'm not begging for anything."

"I really am terribly hurt by what you said," He persisted, eyes alight with mischief, "I definitely think I'm going to require some reparations, lest our relationship be permanently damaged."

"Alright, I'll bite," He replied, "What am I going to have to do?"

Arthur paused, rubbing one hand along his chin as he pretended to be in deep thought. "Hm," He answered after a few seconds, "Really, the only thing that could possibly make this up to me would be if you asked me to attend the formal dance being held here in about a month and a half."

"Wait a sec," Alfred muttered, quickly adding up a few numbers in his head, "Are you asking me to go to prom with you?"

"Of course not!" He replied, looking playfully offended and just a little bit nervous, "That would be ungentlemanly of me. I'm asking you to ask _me_ to prom."

"Oh, right. What a stupid mistake for me to make," He stated sarcastically, "Well then, Mr. Arthur Kirkland, would you like to go to the junior prom with me?"

"Why, Alfred! This is so sudden and unexpected!" He exclaimed, one hand pressed dramatically to his chest before his face seemed to soften, a gentle smile playing on his lips, "I would love to."

Alfred, as ridiculous as he found the whole situation, was glad that he'd gotten the pressure of actually asking his boyfriend to prom out of the way (and was pleased that he'd been able to see Arthur's elusive playful side in the process). He grinned back at him, unable to stop himself from leaning forward and capturing the other's lips with his own.

"You two are absolutely sickeningly sweet." A voice complained from near the door, and they both looked up to see Gilbert standing in the middle of the room with a smirk on his face.

"Oh, come on," Arthur complained, crossing his arms, "Can we have just _one_ kiss where we don't get interrupted?"

Gilbert snickered. "Not in the middle of school, you can't." He reasoned, crossing the room and pulling a chair up in between them, "So, how are our favorite two lovebirds doing?"

"Our _what_?" Arthur asked, one eyebrow raised critically.

"You know, the _it_ couple," Gilbert responded, slinging an around each of them, "Our lovey-dovey nerds, the poster children of AP Chemistry, JoKir –"

"Um, dude, what?" Alfred asked, looking at Gilbert in confusion.

"JoKir," He explained, nodding his head as he grinned at them, "Jo for Jones and Kir for Kirkland. I came up with it myself. It's basically the awesomest portmanteau ever!"

"Alright, what are you trying to get at here Gilbert?" Arthur asked, not amused.

Gilbert shrugged, "I don't know what you mean."

"Look, you _very obviously_ want something from us, so why don't you just spit it out already and leave us in peace." He responded, looking at him with an annoyed expression.

"Mr. Brewer said that we could get t-shirts specifically for our class," He leaned in conspiratorially, voice dropping to a whisper, "But we all have to design it and put in orders for it first. Also we have to pay for them ourselves. Basically we have to do all the work ourselves, but it'll be really cool once they're done!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, turning away. "Not interested, Gilbert."

"Come on!" He exclaimed, "All eight of us have to agree to it or else we can't do it!"

"Yeah, Artie," Alfred chimed in, "This sounds like it could be really neat! Like, imagine all of us having matching shirts. We could all wear them on the same day and people would think, 'wow, look how cool they all are!' and they'd stare at us and stuff."

"I can absolutely guarantee you that that wouldn't happen," Arthur responded with no small amount of snark before turning back to face Gilbert, "But I suppose that it wouldn't be _completely_ terrible. You can count me in, but I'm sure as hell not going to wear the thing."

Gilbert fist pumped, removing his arms from around their shoulders before saying, "You won't regret this!"

Arthur began to roll his eyes before he stopped, turning around with a look of realization on his face. "Wait a minute," He spoke slowly, "That's why you interrupted us, isn't it! You knew that he'd convince me to agree!"

Gilbert shrugged. "I never said that I'd play fair. Besides," He continued, flashing a grin, "What I said wasn't a lie. You really _are_ the it couple of AP Chemistry. Most of us were taking bets on when you'd get together within the first week of classes."

Arthur stared at him, face stuck between shocked and offended. " _What?"_ He demanded.

"I lost," He grimaced, completely ignoring how red Arthur's face seemed to be getting, "I said 30 days before you started dating. But at least I beat Elizaveta. She gave it a year."

"Why on _earth_ –" Arthur began at the same time Alfred exclaimed, "Who won?"

Arthur glared at him and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, Gilbert bursting out laughing at the situation. "Lili won," He answered, "She seemed so shy, but you should have seen the _look_ on her face when you left the room together. I mean, we all knew, but she just looked so _smug_ – and then she took all of our money. Who knows where she learned how to do that."

"You bet _actual money?_ " Arthur exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

"Well, what else were they going to bet?" Alfred reasoned, Gilbert giving him an appreciative look.

"Don't encourage him!" Arthur exclaimed, glaring at his boyfriend.

Gilbert shrugged. "At least it was better than what we're betting on now," He stated, "Right now the question is when one of you is going to propose. I'm giving it 7 months, but I'm sure as hell not putting in as much money as I did last time."

Arthur looked at him in sheer amazement, clenching one of his fists. "We have been dating for a little over _two months!_ "

"Yeah, and?" Gilbert laughed out, and Arthur clenched his jaw. Alfred leaned over, placing one hand on his boyfriend's shoulder before trying to give him a soothing look.

"Babe, calm down. It's just a game." He reasoned, pleading with his eyes that he wouldn't let it escalate.

"They are _betting_ on our _relationship!_ How can you not be angry about this?" Arthur gestured wildly with his hands, eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the albino boy.

"It's just for fun, darlin'," Alfred leaned closer, punctuating each of his words with a kiss on Arthur's face. "Besides," He whispered, "Does it really matter what they think? I mean, I chose you for a reason, and that's all that really matters, isn't it?"

The other boy flushed, his eyes flickering back and forth between Alfred and Gilbert, before settling his glare on Gilbert. "I'll let this go if you leave the room until the bell rings," He reasoned.

Gilbert quickly took him up on his offer, making his way to the door, calling out behind him as he left, "You two really are the most sickening couple I've ever seen."

Arthur rolled his eyes before turning his gaze back towards Alfred. "You are an absolute idiot," He reprimanded, his face glowing to the tips of his ears, "But damn if you're not the sweetest git of them all. Not to mention, you seem to have quite the way with words. You could go into politics with a mouth like that."

Alfred smirked, one side of his mouth tugging up as he bit his lip. "Oh yeah, probably," He reasoned, pulling Arthur close, "But I think there are probably better uses for it right now."

"Yes?" Arthur leaned into him, gazing up into his eyes, "And what might those be?"

"Well ya know, we didn't really get to finish that kiss from earlier. The one where we were celebrating the fact that we're going to prom together." He grinned, bringing his face closer to his.

"And what are you planning on doing about that?" Arthur asked before finally closing the gap between them, not allowing Alfred to answer his rhetorical question. Alfred tugged him forward a little bit so that he could run his hands through the hair at the back of his neck, feeling how silky it seemed to be. Arthur ran his hands across his cheeks, brushing one thumb across his cheekbones.

They remained that way for only a few seconds before there was the sound of footsteps. Arthur pushed Alfred away almost violently, standing up in a rage to glare at the Frenchman who had walked into the classroom.

"Am I interrupting something?" He smirked, leaning against the table that was the nearest to him.

" _Dammit_ , Francis!" Arthur exclaimed, throwing his hands up and storming out of the room, leaving Alfred to stare after him almost mournfully.

* * *

 **You have to admit, Arthur, that the middle of chemistry class is not the best place for a make out session.**

 **Chapter 22 is over, which means that we should be a little over halfway to the end of this fic. I'd estimate they're about in early/middle February right now, and I'm currently planning for it to end in their July, so we're heading towards there pretty fast.**

 **Thank you all for sticking with me for so long, and I hope that the rest of it will be good enough for you to stick around that much longer!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	23. Throwing Stones in Glass Houses

Alfred made his way through the hall, his brother following sluggishly behind him as he carried his things for him. The crutches that were supporting his body were annoyingly bothersome, but absolutely necessary considering how badly he had sprained his ankle. He had been playing basketball at the YMCA and landed on his foot wrong, leading to him being stuck with the crutches for three weeks. The only good news about the situation was that Matthew was almost contractually obligated to follow him to his classes, carrying his things. It was an unspoken agreement that they'd had since Alfred first broke his foot playing football in fifth grade.

He dragged himself through the door to the chemistry classroom, turning slightly sideways in order to fit himself around the large tables. "I sit at this one at the end of the room, Mattie," Alfred said, pausing for a moment in order to point at his table, "You can just shove my stuff there."

Matthew grumbled under his breath, but moved to place his things down. "You know you can just carry a bookbag right? They let you do that now. I don't need to carry your things for you."

Alfred laughed. "Yeah, but where's the fun in that? It's like you're my own personal slave for three weeks."

"Remind me why I put up with you again?" Matthew mumbled, crossing his arms. He turned to leave the room, but paused in surprise when he saw a figure sitting on the other side of the classroom. "Francis?"

Francis looked up, staring at the both of them in just as much surprise. "Matthew? What are you doing here?"

"Wait," Alfred interrupted, staring between the both of them, "You two know each other?"

"He's in my French class," Matthew stated, "We sit together."

"You're in French?" Alfred asked, looking at Francis in amusement, "But aren't you French? Shouldn't you already know the language?"

Francis shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. "It's a very easy class," He reasoned, "I, however, am very surprised to see you here. I'd no idea that you two knew each other."

Matthew breathed out a small laugh. "How could you possibly not have known? We're twins."

"I had just never connected you two in my mind." Francis said, making a noncommittal gesture with his hand.

"But we're _twins_ ," Alfred laughed out, looking at Francis in confusion, "We have the exact same face. What more connection could you need?"

"You may have the same face, but you use them differently," Francis reasoned, "It makes you seem completely unrecognizable from one another."

"Right, because that makes total sense," Alfred snorted, shoving himself down into his chair and leaning his crutches up against the table.

"While this conversation is riveting, I'm going to be late to my next class," Matthew stated, heading towards the door once more, "Al, I'll be back at the end of fifth period. Francis, I'll see you in French."

With that, he left the room, bumping into Arthur as he entered. He stared behind him for a moment, watching as Matthew departed, one hand resting on the doorframe. "Why was your brother here?" He asked, before turning his head and immediately groaning. "I can't leave you alone for five seconds, can I? I was wondering why you hadn't shown up for lunch."

"I texted you," Alfred pouted, crossing his arms, "But since you're so insistent on not using your phone in school, I guess you didn't get it. I couldn't get to the cafeteria with my crutches so I had to eat in the commons."

"Oh, poor baby," Arthur snarked, moving towards him before placing a kiss to his temple, "How did you manage to hurt yourself this time?"

"I _am_ a poor baby, thank you for acknowledging that," He returned, a smirk on his face, "And just for your information, it's just a sprained ankle. I'm not even hurt that bad."

"Of course, darling, that's why you're in crutches," Arthur laughed out, pulling out his little notebook and beginning to write in it. Alfred gulped upon seeing it. His boyfriend had neglected to bring it to school in the last couple of months, something that he certainly hadn't taken for granted. Even just looking at it brought up immeasurable feelings of guilt within him – he had held that book in his hands, had read out of it, completely without Arthur knowing. He felt his stomach churn, and he instinctively turned his attention away from his scrawling hands.

Alfred grasped at the box that contained his lab goggles, opening it and fiddling with the strap in order to distract himself. He wound it around his fingers awkwardly, eventually pulling it up and trying to place it over his glasses. After a few seconds of him trying and failing (as usual) to make them work together, the rest of the class shuffled in. He nearly sighed in relief as the teacher followed in suit, indicating that the lab was about to start.

Mr. Brewer stood at the entrance to the lab, Alfred the first in line to enter the room even with his crutches slowing him down. He hurriedly made his way towards their spot on the lab table, placing his book down onto the surface and opening it. Arthur sat down beside him a few moments later, and he forced a grin onto his face before stating, "You're gonna have to get all the materials this time around, considering the fact that I can't walk."

Arthur snorted. "That's an excuse and you know it." He said, but left to gather the materials anyway, leaving Alfred to his own devices. He pulled at the goggles again, shoving the elastic behind his head before snapping it down over his glasses, smacking himself in the nose. He grimaced, placing the goggles back down onto the table before rubbing at his face with his hand.

He heard a giggle coming from his right, and he turned to see Arthur with a smirk on his face, placing various cuvettes, graduated cylinders, and other instruments upon the table. "You're an absolute magnet for disaster," He snarked, "I thought you would have learnt by now that you won't be able to fit those over your glasses."

"I have _learned_ nothing," He pointed out, subtly correcting his British grammar, "And you can't stop me from trying."

"If you're so insistent upon this, I might as well try." Arthur stated, reaching forward and plucking the glasses off of his face. Alfred tried to grab them back in a panic, leaning out of his chair, but his boyfriend held them out of his reach, a coy smile on his face. He scrambled behind him for his crutches, needing to get those glasses out of his grasp.

"Oh, come now, there's no need to be so protective of them. They're just –" Arthur slid the glasses onto his face, the smile slipping off of his face as he blinked in surprise, "Fake. They're fake."

Alfred quickly pulled them off of his face and placed them back onto his own, turning away as a blush began to creep up onto his cheeks. He tried his hardest not to meet Arthur's increasingly confused gaze.

"Alfred?" He asked, trying to put himself into Alfred's field of view, "Why are you wearing fake glasses?"

"You know, I think I actually left my pen in the classroom. I'm just gonna go get that now," Alfred said, pulling himself up onto his crutches and making his way back out of the lab.

"Alfred?" Arthur asked, following behind him, "Alfred! What's going on?"

Alfred ignored him, trying to move faster towards the classroom. Unfortunately for him, Arthur could follow him just as fast, walking into the classroom and closing the door behind him. Alfred bit his lip, knowing that he had nowhere left to run.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Arthur asked, concern plain in his voice, "You're not acting at all like yourself. Did – did I say something, _do_ something wrong?"

Alfred could feel his heart leap in his chest, fear roiling in his stomach. He _couldn't_ let Arthur know about the glasses – but he already knew enough that the rest of the conversation was completely inevitable. "I –" He began, voice cracking, "The glasses are fake."

"Yes, I had gathered that." Arthur stated, walking around him so that he could look him in the eye before asking, "Why?"

"It's kind of a long story," He whispered, biting his lip and looking away.

"Alfred," He whispered back, guiding him down into a chair, "I always have time for you."

"It's really stupid," He glanced up at Arthur before looking back down at his hands, wringing them together, "I just – it started when I was a little boy. People would call me names and shove me in lockers in stuff, because I wasn't really as smart as the other kids. I mean, at first I didn't care enough to try, but eventually it just kind of got to me. I started to think that I was just as dumb as they said I was."

Arthur nodded, concern plain on his face as he grasped one of Alfred's hands in his own. He looked up at him, eyes slightly watery. "So, um, my mom," He continued, "She thought if I wore these glasses, that I'd feel smarter. And it worked – I mean, it was one hell of a placebo at least. I started to work my ass off, and pretty soon I was the top of every class I was in."

He paused, feeling Arthur squeeze his hand, rubbing one thumb across his knuckles. "But now, I, uh," He stuttered out, "I can't really stop wearing them. Because they're kind of my good luck charm, and – and if I don't wear them I won't be _smart_ anymore, a-and I won't be the same person, and y-you won't _like_ me –"

He didn't even realize that he had begun crying until Arthur's hand reached up to wipe away a stray tear. He glanced upward, his boyfriend's concerned expression hidden behind the blurriness of his vision, and he could feel his face crumple just looking at him.

"Oh, Alfred," He whispered, reaching forward and gathering him up into his arms, "Darling, don't you ever think for a _second_ that I wouldn't feel the way I do just because of something like that. You matter so, _so_ much to me that I don't think I could let you go even if you begged me to."

Alfred choked back a sob, burying his face into Arthur's shoulder. "You're more than just a pair of glasses, love, and I of all people should know that." He continued, beginning to pet the back of his hair, "You're such a wonderful, loving, _kind_ individual. Your entire personality exudes warmth. And you're intelligent – so very intelligent that I wouldn't even know where to begin."

"Listen to me, Alfred," He whispered, pulling back and forcing him to look him in the eyes, "This piece of plastic doesn't make you. _You_ make you. Do you understand?"

Alfred bit his lip and nodded, a relieved smile working its way onto Arthur's face. "Good," He sighed, "I know that I'm not going to break you of this habit just by talking to you about it, but I – I'd like to help you, if you'll let me."

"Yeah," Alfred croaked out, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, "Yeah, I think that'd be okay with me. And Arthur?"

"Yes, darling?" He asked in return, searching his face for any sign that there was something else he was upset about.

"Thanks," He admitted, a small smile slipping onto his face, "For just, you know, everything. I really don't deserve a boyfriend like you."

Arthur scoffed. "Rubbish," He countered, "I'll not be hearing any of this self-depreciating nonsense out of you any longer. You deserve everything and more."

Alfred smiled, but out of the corner of his eye he saw that small notebook, laying so innocently across the tabletop. Guilt began to rise up within him, but he pushed it down, thinking, _No, I really don't._

* * *

 **And there's a plot point that I've been setting up since probably chapter two! It probably didn't seem like it, but I actually did have a plan for the pointless goggle thing this whole time. I'm also relatively sure that these two have learned zilch from any of their labs, considering they spend most of that time doing completely different things.**

 **Our little nerds are getting themselves into some pretty stormy waters here. Who knows how they're going to deal with it all? Well, technically I do, but that was a more rhetorical question than anything.**

 **I know that I say this every chapter, but really, thank you all for reviewing, favoriting, following, and even just reading my story! It means a lot to me, and it's what keeps me motivated to write every day!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	24. You Should Be Alone With Me

"So guess what I got!" Alfred exclaimed as he burst through the front door of his house, Arthur in tow. It was just the two of them in the house that day, both of his parents at work and Matthew busy studying with Francis. He had been planning on taking full advantage of the empty house, but his boyfriend had made it very clear on the bus ride home that he was only coming over to study.

"I don't know, what did you get?" He asked, looking at the excitable boy with amusement. Alfred grinned, walking backwards through the door into the kitchen. Arthur rolled his eyes, but followed behind him anyway, barely getting through the doorframe before a box was being thrown at him.

"Ta-da!" Alfred smiled, gesturing towards the box in his hands. Arthur looked down, holding it up in order to examine it. "It's tea!"

"You bought tea?" Arthur asked, placing the box back down onto the counter, "You don't drink tea."

Alfred rolled his eyes, picking it back up and shoving it into Arthur's hands. "That's because it's for you, genius."

"You bought tea for _me?_ " Arthur asked, looking up at him in confusion, "Why, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Well, you know, you're here so often," Alfred reasoned almost nervously, "And you like tea a lot, so I figured I'd buy you a box so you could have some when you're here. Did I get the right kind?"

"Earl grey." Arthur remarked, looking down at the label, "I can't believe you remembered what kind of tea I like."

"Well you are my boyfriend," Alfred said noncommittally, but a pleased blush seemed to make its way onto his face anyway.

"I suppose you are. Thank you, darling," He returned, glancing around the kitchen, "Do you happen to have a kettle?"

"Uh, no. Is that something that I should have?" He asked, voice full of trepidation.

"Traditionally, yes," He stated, nose scrunched up, "But I suppose that I can make do without one."

"Oh," Alfred blinked, "Sorry, I guess."

Arthur laughed. "It's the thought that counts." He reasoned, "Besides, microwaved tea is better than no tea at all, right?"

"Well, considering tea is pretty gross…" Alfred smirked before Arthur elbowed him in the ribs.

"Oh, shut up," He reprimanded, eyebrows furrowed, "Tea is absolutely lovely and you know it."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," He waved his hand flippantly, "I'm gonna get the stuff ready to study. Have fun with your leaf water."

Arthur scowled, holding one hand against his chest, offended. "It is not _leaf water_ you bloody idiot! It's _more than that!_ "

Alfred laughed as he made his way out of the kitchen, heading towards his bedroom with their bookbags in tow. Riling Arthur up certainly wasn't as easy as it had been before they started dating, but it was still just as rewarding for him to see that look on his face. He threw himself onto his bed, leaving the bookbags on the floor, and leaned back to stare at the stars on his ceiling.

A few minutes later, Arthur walked in, a steaming mug held in his hands. He kicked the door closed behind him, sitting the cup down on Alfred's bedside table before shoving himself onto the bed next to him. There was a few seconds of silence between them, Arthur leaning back against his pillows.

"Alfred," He whispered with trepidation, "You know, you could try it now. Just with me."

Alfred looked at him in confusion. "What, the tea?"

"No, uh," He hesitated, placing one hand upon Alfred's arm, "The glasses. You could try not wearing them just for now. If it's just you and me, it shouldn't be so awful, right?"

"You know, maybe we could just wait and do this some other time," Alfred deflected, leaning away from him, eyes looking anywhere but at him.

"You can't just ignore this," Arthur reprimanded, turning him back to face him, "It has to happen at some point, and why not start here? It's just us two, there's nobody else to see you like this."

"It seems pretty unnecessary right now, I think it can wait just a little while longer," Alfred laughed awkwardly.

"It's only a few hours Alfred," He whispered, reaching up to pull the glasses off of his face, "You can trust me with these few hours."

Alfred closed his eyes as the glasses were removed, sighing heavily before replying, "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I can."

"Lovely," He returned, pulling back and placing the glasses onto his bedside table next to his tea. He reached down, grasping their bookbags and pulling them up onto the bed with a grunt, "So, we've got less than two months until the AP exam. I think we ought to start reviewing now."

Alfred stared at him, incredulous. "The exam is in _May_." He stated.

"Early May," Arthur reasoned, pulling their books, folders, and notebooks out of their bags.

"It's still May, Arthur," He said, exasperated, "Can't we just relax for a while? It's so far away, it's pointless to start reviewing now."

Arthur scowled at him, eyebrows furrowed. "It's better if we get a head start on things." He reprimanded, "Besides, you know how difficult this material is for me. I _need_ to start this early."

"You wouldn't even remember it two months from now," Alfred argued, reaching one hand up to adjust his glasses and stopping halfway as if he had been stung. He looked almost lost for a moment before shaking his head and staring down at their chemistry books.

Arthur's scowl morphed into something more sympathetic, and he reached down to pull out their notebooks. "Well, maybe you're right," He conceded, "We do have that lab that we need to work on anyway."

Alfred bit his lip, a little upset that his boyfriend was only agreeing with him to keep his mind off of his glasses, something that he found to be a little bit patronizing. He kept quiet, however, nodding his consent to Arthur's plan as he opened up his own notebook.

"So we're about halfway through the calculations," Arthur reminded himself, tapping his pen against his book, "It shouldn't take us _too_ long to finish."

"Are you kidding?" Alfred laughed out, "I give it like five minutes. This is the easiest lab we've done in a while."

Arthur stared at him, caught between being offended and surprised. " _Excuse_ you?" He asked, gesturing down towards the multitude of calculations that he'd already scribbled into the margins of his book.

"Well it _is_ ," Alfred defended, pulling out one of the graphs and pointing at a point on the line, "Look, the graphing program basically did all of the actual math for us. All we have to do is just look at it and write it down. So since we used 22 milliliters, the optimal pH of the buffer would be 4.7. It's easy."

"I…" Arthur trailed off, looking between his notebook and Alfred's, "I think that I did it wrong."

"That's all right," Alfred half-comforted as he scribbled a few more calculations down on the paper, "The relationship isn't super obvious. You have to think through the actual steps of the equation to realize that what we graphed was the answer to the question."

Arthur nodded, copying down the relatively easy answers into his notebook before looking up at him with a small smile on his face. "You figured this out yourself, did you?"

Alfred stared at him in confusion. "Yes?" He asked, "How else would I have known how to do it? Brewer doesn't explain anything."

Arthur's smile grew into a smirk. "And you explained it to me without any trouble at all."

"Okay, you're acting really weird right now," Alfred said turning back to look at his notebook, "So I'm going to ignore whatever it is you're talking about until you stop just stating blatant facts about things that literally just happened."

"You're not wearing your glasses, and you're still just as smart as before," Arthur pointed out, a look of pride on his face.

Alfred stared at him, shell shocked for a moment, before replying, "That totally doesn't prove anything."

"Of course, darling," Arthur placated, an amused look on his face, "Whatever you say. But you know, we don't really seem to have anything else to work on, now that we've finished the lab. Didn't you have something else that you wanted to do today?"

"W-wait, what?" Alfred asked, confused by the sudden change in topic, "You seemed pretty adamant about not doing anything _but_ studying earlier. Why are you changing your mind all of a sudden?"

Arthur shrugged, slipping off of the bed and onto the floor. "I very rarely have changes of heart, so I'd advise you not question it lest I decide against it once more," He advised, "Isn't there some movie that you wanted me to watch with you? We could do that, if you'd like."

"You'll watch Captain America with me?" Alfred asked, waiting until Arthur gave a small nod to breathe out, " _Sweet._ "

Arthur laughed, making his way into the living room, Alfred following behind him like an excited puppy. "Oh my gosh, you're going to love this." He stated as he placed the movie carefully into the DVD player, "Hopefully."

As the screen started to light up, Alfred moved back, shoving the both of them onto the couch and slinging his arm around his boyfriend's shoulder. Arthur rolled his eyes, but allowed him to keep it where it was, subtly snuggling himself tighter into his shoulder when he thought he wasn't looking.

They watched in silence for a while, their concentration broken only when Alfred reached over the back of the couch to grab a blanket to cover them with. The blanket forced them even closer to each other than they already were, but neither of them really minded the proximity. It was only during the training scene that the silence was broken, Alfred leaning over and remarking, "You know, she reminds me of you."

"Who?" Arthur asked absentmindedly, attention still focused on the screen.

"Peggy Carter," He responded, "You know, the British one."

Arthur looked up at this, a scowl making its way onto his face. "Let me guess. It's just because she's British."

"No!" Alfred quickly defended, before sheepishly admitting, "Yeah, okay, that is part of it. But it's more than that!"

Arthur pulled back, eyes widening in realization. "Alfred F. Jones, I _swear_ if you're leading up to telling me that I'm a girl –"

"I'm not!" He interrupted, crossing his arms as if to shield himself from the accusation, "It's just – you're both strong, tough, and a little angry at times, but in the end what you really are is sweet."

"Oh." Arthur muttered, face flushing as he buried himself back into Alfred's shoulder, "Well, I suppose that's an acceptable comparison. B-but don't go around saying those types of things all the time!"

"Sure, babe, whatever you say," Alfred whispered, nuzzling himself against Arthur's hair. He could feel the blush still lingering on his skin, warm to the touch where their bodies met, and he reached up to brush his finger against one cherry red ear. "Did you know that you always blush the darkest right here?" He asked.

"Did you know that you're a complete and utter git?" He responded in kind, pulling his ear away from his touch and effectively burrowing himself even further into Alfred's grasp. He smiled but didn't reply, not wanting to spoil the moment by saying something stupid. It was rare that they got a moment to themselves without anyone nearby that could possibly interrupt, which made it feel all the more magical even when they were doing something as simple as cuddling on the couch.

Alfred looked down at the other boy, hair tousled and emerald eyes gleaming from where he was tucked into his chest, and he felt his heart swell. It would be so easy to just let those three words slip out at that moment, to allow them to finally be laid plain between them. _Just say it,_ He thought, _I love you, Arthur._

"Why are you staring at me?" Arthur asked, looking up at him in confusion, attention having been turned away from the movie for who knows how long.

Alfred froze as if he had been caught before relaxing into an awkward smile. "It's nothing," He laughed, "I just kind of zoned out."

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, but turned back towards the TV anyway, Alfred letting out an imperceptible sigh.

* * *

 **Oh, Alfred. You've got problems just piling up for yourself.**

 **So school started today, which unfortunately means that I won't be able to update nearly as often. I'm still going to try to write as fast as I can, but it most likely won't be one update a day. Oh, the joys of education.**

 **Our little nerds are in March right now, which means that the prom is coming up, along with the AP Exam. There's going to be quite a few chapters taking up the space between now and then because a lot of drama is going to go down, so be on the lookout for that.**

 **And, like always, thank you all so much for supporting this fic! It honestly means so much to me and I really do think you're all the sweetest people on the planet.**

 **~Alix Marie**


	25. Shut Up and Dance

Alfred tugged on his cuff links, biting his lip as he tried to work up the nerve to ring the doorbell. It had seemed so easy when he had thought about it earlier, but now that he was standing on Arthur's doorstep it was a thousand times worse. When he had imaged prom as a child, it was always a very showy affair, with him showing up in a tuxedo and charming a pretty young girl in an elaborate pink gown. The reality, however, was of him in a rented suit sweating nervously in front of the door, unable to find the courage to actually open it.

He shook his head, pulling his shoulders back. He could do this – it was only prom, and it wasn't as if he hadn't met Arthur's family before. Granted, he had only talked with his brother Allistor (and been moderately terrified the whole time), but he assured himself that nothing as simple as this could scare a hero like him. He was practically indestructible.

He reached forward quickly ringing the bell and pulling his hand back to his side, standing rigidly on the doorstep. A few seconds later, the door opened and Arthur walked out, hurriedly shoving a hand over his mouth and quietly shutting the door. Alfred raised his eyebrows as he grabbed his wrist and began pulling him down the sidewalk. Once they had gotten out of the house's range of sight, the hand was removed from his mouth.

"Alright, I think we're safe for now, but we should move quickly just in case," Arthur sighed out in relief, "If my Mum catches us, she'll subject us to questions and pictures for so long we might as well skip the dance altogether. I thought it better that we just leave as stealthily as we can."

Alfred let out a small laugh, staring at him with affection in his eyes. "Hello to you too," He said sarcastically, "You look nice."

Though the words were spoken in a mocking tone, he really did mean it – Arthur looked absolutely stunning. His eyes seemed to sparkle, his usually unruly hair looked slightly tamer, and his suit fit him perfectly – he wouldn't be surprised if it had been tailored specifically to his slim frame.

"Oh, come off it," Arthur stated, rolling his eyes, "Don't act as if you wouldn't do the exact same thing, because we both know that you would."

"I wasn't saying that I wouldn't," Alfred shrugged with a sly smile, "I was just saying that you looked nice, is all."

Arthur snorted, but gave him a genuine smile anyways. "You don't look half bad either, I suppose."

"Thanks," Alfred snarked, grinning at him before turning his head to look at his boyfriend's house, "You know, we may want to go back, considering our carpool is waiting outside the door."

"Carpool?" Arthur asked, looking at him in confusion.

Alfred nodded, pointing towards the car parked in the street behind them. "Yeah, I mean that is how I got here. Gilbert has his license, so he agreed to drive us and Mattie to the prom."

"Oh. Yes, that would probably be a good idea then," Arthur turned around before stopping in his tracks, eyes widening in surprise, "Bloody hell, _please_ no."

"What?" Alfred asked before turning and seeing Allistor, face pulled into a scowl as he stormed down the sidewalk towards them. Arthur returned the glare, but slowly and reluctantly walked forward to meet him, arms crossed.

"What exactly is it that you think you're doing?" Allistor questioned, looking over the both of them with a frosty stare.

Arthur huffed, lifting his chin up in defiance. "We're leaving for the dance. I hardly think it's any of your business."

Allistor paused, looking taken aback. "None of my business?" He laughed out, "I think when you're sneaking out of the house with some strange boy it's plenty of my business, prom or not."

"Allistor, I've been dating Alfred for _months_ now, so I'd appreciate it if you'd drop this ridiculous over-protective brother thing!" Arthur burst out, eyebrows furrowed, "And you and I both know how Mum is – we'd be late if I didn't leave immediately!"

"I guess that is true," He replied reluctantly, "But still –"

"We're leaving now," Arthur interrupted, walking past him, "Don't worry, I'll let her take all the pictures she likes _after_ the dance."

Allistor stood there, dumbfounded, as Arthur continued on his way, stopping only to raise an eyebrow at Alfred and gesture for him to follow. Alfred began to walk in the same direction, but was stopped by an arm across his chest.

"Hey," Allistor threatened, still managing to look menacing even after being told off by his little brother, "You better take care of him, or you'll have me to answer to."

"Y-yes sir," Alfred stuttered out, trying to pretend that he _wasn't_ terrified of the man, "I will absolutely do that!"

"Oh, don't 'sir' the wanker, Alfred," Arthur called out from over his shoulder, "You'll inflate his ego more than it already is."

Alfred snickered as the both of them hopped into the backseat of Gilbert's car, ignoring the indignant shout that came from behind them. He flashed a grin at Arthur, slamming the door shut just before the car took off.

"Geez, what took you so long?" Gilbert complained, sneaking a glance to the backseat before concentrating on the road in front of them, "I was about to drive off without you."

"Extenuating circumstances," Arthur answered, and Alfred stared at him with a mixture of pride and adoration.

"Well, at least we're all here now," Matthew reasoned, causing Arthur to look up in surprise.

"Matthew!" He exclaimed, letting out a startled little laugh, "I honestly forgot that you were even here."

Matthew let out a long-suffering sigh before turning around and, with a tight smile, saying, "It's totally fine."

"What?" Gilbert cried out from the driver's seat, a look of disbelief on his face, "How could anybody forget the awesome me's date for the night?"

Matthew flushed, sending Gilbert a reprimanding look, but the damage had already been done. Alfred looked between the two of them warily, both of them avoiding meeting his eyes (not that it was too hard, considering they were both in the front seat).

"Wait," He paused, trying to comprehend what he had just heard, "You guys are going to the prom…together?"

"Well I wasn't going to go alone!" Matthew defended, a heated blush still on his face, "Gilbert asked, and I said yes. It's as simple as that."

"I didn't even know that you _knew_ each other," Alfred pouted, and Arthur laughed, placing a hand on his arm.

"It's just a date, sweetheart," He assured him, "Don't let it ruin the night."

Alfred rolled his eyes at the almost motherly tone he had taken, but leaned forward and pressed his lips against Arthur's anyway. Matthew and Gilbert both scrunched up their faces in mild disgust.

"Thank god, we're finally here!" Gilbert exclaimed, "I don't think I could stand being in the car with you two for another second."

Alfred let out a snicker, sliding himself out of the car and practically running to the other side to open the door for Arthur. His boyfriend raised an eyebrow at his antics, but accepted it anyway, linking their arms together once he'd gotten both feet on the ground. He bit his lip, smiling up at him, before asking, "Are you ready?"

Alfred grinned, tugging him forward across the pavement towards the entrance to the school. "Ready as I'll ever be, babe."

"Hey, wait!" Gilbert called from behind them, running up to them with Matthew in tow, "I've gotta ask you guys something!"

They stopped in their tracks, sending him a questioning look, before he asked, "So have you guys put any more thought into the t-shirt thing? Because I know that you said yes, but we still haven't actually _done_ anything about it, you know?"

Arthur stared at him in disbelief. "Do you really think this is the appropriate time to talk about this, Gilbert?" He questioned, not waiting for a response before re-linking his arm with Alfred's and hurrying towards the front doors once more.

"Yes!" Gilbert yelled, one hand cupped to his mouth, but he neglected to run after them this time, leaving them to walk in themselves.

Alfred grinned over at his boyfriend as they handed their tickets over and walked into the gym, the pink-ish light enveloping them in its glow. He wasn't exactly sure what the theme was that year (he thought that the posters said something about Italy), but whatever it was seemed to include a multitude of pink, red, and flowers in various shades of pink and red. It wasn't exactly his cup of tea, but Arthur seemed to like it, so he kept shut on the matter.

"Would you like to dance?" Arthur asked, extending one hand to him with a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Alfred grasped his hand with enthusiasm, dragging him towards the center of the gym, where there was a crowd of miscellaneous juniors and seniors dancing with abandon.

Alfred immediately began to dance in the most ridiculous and flailing manner possible, shaking his hips from side to side with his hands thrown up above his head. Arthur joined in, though much less wildly, asking, "Where did you learn how to dance?"

"Nowhere!" Alfred exclaimed, practically shouting over the sound of the music, "Why?"

"You have a very unique style," He snarked, almost drowned out by the noise, "I was just wondering if it was natural or something that needs to be taught."

Alfred pouted, the expression looking very off-kilter combined with the flamboyant movement of his limbs. "Okay, now you're just making fun of me," He complained, "But I'll have you know that the way I dance is totally awesome!"

"I never said it wasn't, darling," Arthur confessed with a smirk on his face, "In fact, I like it. It's very… _you_."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He questioned, an indignant look on his face.

Before he could reply, however, the music suddenly changed to something slower, more soft, and Arthur immediately paled. "You know, I'm actually feeling rather tired," He declared, trying to pull away from the crowd, "I think that I'd like to sit down."

Alfred grabbed his wrist, pulling him even closer to him than he'd been before. "But Artie," He whined, "It's a slow song! We've gotta dance!"

Arthur attempted to tug his hand away, but Alfred's grip was too strong. "That is exactly why we _shouldn't_ dance." He explained, looking hopefully over at the section of the room that housed the tables.

"What?" Alfred asked, a little bit of hurt sparking in his eyes, "Why not?"

"It's just –"Arthur stopped, a blush appearing at the tips of his ears, "Well, frankly, it's embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?" Alfred questioned, "You think it's embarrassing to dance with me?"

"No!" He exclaimed, grasping Alfred's other hand in his own, "It's embarrassing to dance with you in front of other people."

Alfred pulled him closer, wrapping his hands around his waist. "Well that's just stupid." He declared, shrugging his shoulders.

"Excuse me?" Arthur asked indignantly as he rested his hands more comfortably against Alfred's chest, "And why, exactly, do you think that?"

"Well for one, I'm your boyfriend. Everyone knows it, so nobody's going to care. For two, you're my date, and literally everyone here is slow dancing with their dates because we're at _prom._ And for three –" He pointed out, a sly grin sliding onto his face, "We're already dancing."

Arthur looked down in surprise, suddenly noticing that they had, in fact, been swaying to the beat of a song for most of their conversation. He scowled, staring up at his boyfriend with contempt. "Alfred F. Jones, you are a dirty cheater."

"Yeah, but I still won didn't I?" He asked, a look of triumph on his face as he tugged him even closer, one hand resting in the small of his back.

"I suppose you did," Arthur reasoned, face even redder under the glowing lights, before leaning forward and burying his face into Alfred's chest, "But that doesn't mean that I have to like it."

Alfred rested his chin on the top of his head, grinning as he felt Arthur smiling into his jacket.

* * *

 **Well that was way longer than it was supposed to be! The whole reason I was writing this chapter was because of what happens** _ **after**_ **the prom, but it just got so long that I had to put that off until next chapter. So chapter 26 is going to start off not immediately after this one ends, but still on the same night.**

 **This chapter also took way longer in terms of real time, too, which I am so sorry about. I tried to write as much as I could, but I had so much homework it was insane (I forgot how intense AP classes were). Thank you all so much for sticking with me though! You're all such sweethearts for reviewing, favoriting, following, and even just reading this, and I appreciate every single one of you!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	26. All You Need is

" _Please_ , Arthur?" Alfred begged as they were both shoved into the backseat of Gilbert's car, "Just for like fifteen minutes, come on!"

Arthur rolled his eyes, straightening the lapel on his suit jacket. "Alfred, I really have to get back. It's past midnight, I can't just go traipsing around the neighborhood for hours on end because you don't want to be done with prom."

"You know, most kids go out to after parties until like two in the morning," Alfred pouted, crossing his arms petulantly as he stared out the window, "Why can't you just come over and hang out for a while?"

Alfred knew that he wasn't going to get his boyfriend to return back to his house with him, but he couldn't help trying – the night had been so magical that he just didn't want it to end. Arthur had even loosened up for once, sneaking a few kisses despite his usual hate for public displays of affection. When it finally came time for them to leave the gym, he just _had_ to ask if he would stay with him, even if just for a little while longer. Of course, Arthur shut down that idea in a heartbeat.

Arthur scoffed, averting his eyes. "It's hardly appropriate for me to stay with you until two, regardless of how many people will be there. It's basic propriety."

Alfred turned towards him, puppy dog eyes pleading with the obstinate boy. "I wouldn't try anything!" He exclaimed, jutting his lip out a little for good measure, "And it would be, like, an hour at most. _Please_?"

Arthur bit his lip, trying his hardest to avert his gaze even as Alfred tried his hardest to force himself into his line of vision. "Alfred, I can't –" He turned, face seeming to melt as he looked his boyfriend in the eyes, and he sighed, "Just an hour at most?"

Alfred's entire person seemed to light up in excitement, and if they hadn't been in a car at the time he probably would have knocked Arthur over with the force of his embrace. As it was, however, he pulled him into the crook of his arm, smashing his lips against his boyfriend's cheek before exclaiming, " _Thank you_ , Artie! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Calm down, you git!" Arthur shouted, trying his hardest to act angry but failing, unable to force the cheesy grin from his face. Alfred laughed, but pulled away anyways, leaving only his arm still wrapped around Arthur's shoulder.

"Jeeves," Alfred called to Gilbert, "Take us home!"

"I'm not your butler!" Gilbert exclaimed, half-turning in his seat to look back at them before Matthew shoved his shoulder, turning his attention back to the road.

"You know that we were going to back to our house anyways, right Alfred?" Matthew asked, rolling his eyes, "We do still live there, even if Arthur wasn't coming back with us."

"Yeah, well, whatever," Alfred refuted, too blissful to care about one of his brother's usual jabs. A few moments later, they pulled up to their house, Gilbert parking right next to the sidewalk. They all slid out of the car, waiting in the cool air as Matthew fumbled around in his pocket for a moment before finding the house keys.

"I guess you're free to stay for a while too, Gilbert," Matthew offered as he slid the key into the door, "Seeing as you're Arthur's ride home."

At that, Matthew leveled Alfred with a pointed glance, but he elected to ignore it as he pulled Arthur through the door by the wrist. "Just come get him when you're gonna leave, Gil!" He called out behind him, grinning as he made his way towards his bedroom.

"Alfred, I _know_ you're not this stupid," Arthur complained as he slid open the door. Alfred froze in his tracks, looking at his boyfriend in confusion.

"What do you mean?" He asked, pulling them both into the room and shutting the door behind him, completely oblivious.

"It's midnight, your parents aren't awake, and you think it's a good idea for the both of us to be in your room alone?" He questioned, lips pursed as he crossed his arms.

Alfred waggled his eyebrows, laughing as Arthur's eyebrows lifted indignantly. "Geez, Artie, get your mind out of the gutter," He smirked, throwing himself back onto his bed and loosening his tie, "I already said that I wasn't gonna try anything, and I meant it. Hero's honor."

Alfred crossed one hand over his heart, lifting three fingers in the air in a lazy imitation of a Boy Scout salute. Arthur, however, didn't seem to be comforted by this reassurance. In fact, his face began to glow red, the tips of his ears heating up as he looked away. "Artie?" Alfred questioned, not receiving an answer as the other boy actively avoided his eyes for the second time that night.

A look of realization crossed his face, and he leaned backward with a smirk. "Ooh, I get it," He laughed out, "You're not worried that I'm gonna try something. You're worried that _you're_ gonna try something."

Arthur's entire being seemed to erupt into a blush, the redness spreading to places Alfred didn't even know _could_. His boyfriend, instead of attempting to refute his statement, turned away and began to mess around with the pile of comic books lying on his dresser. "These are very interesting," He rushed out, "H-how long have you had them, exactly?"

Alfred rolled off of the bed, walking over to where Arthur was standing and leaning against his shoulder. "Don't worry," He assured him, "I'll protect you from yourself. Your virtue is safe with me."

Arthur continued to ignore him, flicking through the comic books until he seemed to come across something that interested him. "Alfred," He asked, eyebrows furrowed in curiosity, "Why is there an indent in this comic book?"

"What do you mean?" Alfred asked, dropping his teasing for a moment to look over the shorter boy's shoulder.

"It looks normal on the outside, see?" He pointed out before flipping the book open, "But when you look inside, there's this indentation there, as if someone had put something rectangular between the pages."

All of the blood rushed out of Alfred's face as he realized that Arthur was holding the comic book that he had hidden his notebook in all those months ago. He felt guilt rushing up inside of him, somehow even more painful after the evening they had just shared. "W-wow, that sure is weird!" He exclaimed, trying to act as normal as possible as he slid the papers out of Arthur's hands, "But it's probably nothing. Y-you don't really know a lot about comic books, but believe me, that's totally a thing that happens. They just come like that."

Alfred thanked his lucky stars that, even though he was bad at telling lies, Arthur was even worse at noticing them. He almost sighed in relief as the book was placed back down on the table, his boyfriend still avoiding his eyes with a heavy blush on his face. Arthur clearly didn't notice that anything was off, so all he needed to do was push the guilt back down before they could return to the happy evening they'd been having before.

Arthur looked upward, an almost indignant look on his face. "Alright, I know I'm avoiding the issue," He forced out, lips pursed, "B-but that doesn't mean anything! Besides, I don't really know why you would have such a preoccupation with that fact anyway – if it was indeed a fact, which I can assure you that it isn't."

Alfred placed a grin on his face, trying to put himself back in the mood he'd been in previously. "Because it means that you like me!" He exclaimed, nodding his head in affirmation.

" _Like_ you?" Arthur blurted out, looking as if he was about to burst out laughing, "Alfred, I'm your boyfriend, of course I _like_ you."

Alfred shrugged, a sheepish little smile on his face. "It's still nice to know," He admitted, turning his face away.

"Alfred," Arthur questioned, looking at him with realization in his eyes, "Do you not think that I like you?"

"No, of course I don't!" Alfred exclaimed, completely honestly. He had his doubts sometimes, but never any serious ones – he knew that if Arthur was over him, he'd have dropped him in a heartbeat. His boyfriend, however, seemed to have gotten the idea that he was insecure in his affections, leading to him grasping at Alfred's wrists and looking earnestly into his eyes.

"Al, I know I may not act like it all the time, but I really do like you," He whispered, biting at his lip, "More than you may know. In fact, I –"

Arthur swallowed thickly, averting his eyes for a moment before turning back to stare directly into his eyes. "Well, I – that is to say," He stuttered out, "It may seem a bit early, or possibly not the right moment, and honestly I've been avoiding it because I'm more than a little afraid of what you might say, but –"

He paused for a few seconds, the air between them thick in the silence. "Oh, fuck it," He blurted out, "I love you."

Alfred could feel his heart both lift higher than it had ever been and sink down into his stomach, watching the other boy with mouth gaping wide. _I know_ , He thought, the words twisting in his gut as the guilt began to eat him up from the inside out. Arthur watched him in anticipation, face falling a little more with every moment of silence between them. Alfred tried to move his mouth to respond, but the only thing that was running through his mind was just, _I know, I know, I know._

Arthur bit his lip, eyes tearing up a bit as he hurriedly turned to leave the room. Alfred came back to himself at the very last second, grasping his boyfriend's wrists and pulling him back to face him. He couldn't let himself hurt Arthur this way, not when he'd already hurt him in ways that he didn't even know about. "Me –" He stuttered out, voice breaking in his hurry, "Me too."

Arthur stared at him in what almost seemed like amazement, not saying anything in response. "I mean, like, I love you too," Alfred babbled, trying to fill the silence as he felt his face heating up, "In case you didn't know. Why would you know? That would be stupid. What a really stupid thought that was. I wish that I hadn't just said that. Wow, this is really stupid. I'm still talking, why am I still talking?"

"You're blushing," Arthur pointed out, the blank look still on his face.

Alfred nodded, forcing his lips to stay shut.

"You're blushing," He continued, "And you love me."

Alfred nodded once more. A few seconds passed, and then Arthur's face broke out into a brilliant smile. He seemed to shine, his face lighting up the entire room. It was as if he was unable to control himself as he threw himself forward, wrapping his arms around Alfred's neck and pressing his lips against his.

The kiss only lasted a moment, Arthur pulling back with that blissful smile on his face, happiness almost radiating out of his pores. Alfred wished that he could be experiencing the same thing. He was happy, of course, but what should have been a moment of pure joy was marred by the sickening feeling swirling around in his stomach. Arthur loved him – not just words written out on paper, but real, actual love – and he had betrayed him. The guilt clenched in his gut.

"You two almost done?" A voice snickered from the doorway, "Because I've gotta get home. I need my beauty rest."

Arthur broke away, staring at Gilbert. "Ah – yes, of course," He muttered, face flushing as he gathered his things, "Just a moment."

He turned towards Alfred, biting down a smile as he placed a quick kiss on his cheek. He followed him into the living room, grinning at his boyfriend as they walked together down the hallway. Matthew was waiting, sitting on the couch where he and Gilbert had been watching Netflix. After saying their goodbyes, Gilbert and Arthur walked out of the door, making their way towards the car parked down by the road. Alfred watched from the window, only turning away when the car was out of his line of sight.

Silence filled the room between the two brothers, the house entirely quiet in the dim light. After a moment, Alfred moved to the couch, movements almost robotic as he forced himself to sit, guilt churning in his gut. He swallowed thickly, biting his lip, before turning to stare his brother in the eyes.

"Mattie," He whispered, voice breaking, "I think I did a really bad thing."

* * *

 **This chapter was also supposed to include more than it actually ended up including. I wonder if this is going to become a pattern.**

 **So this is where the fun really begins! Well, fun for me. I'm sure that Arthur and Alfred would most likely disagree. The next couple of chapters are going to be nothing but drama, although I'm not entirely sure whether I'm going to start where this chapter leaves off or go straight to the Monday after prom. Either way, you can be assured that shit is about to go down.**

 **Thank you all so much for sticking with me, even though I can't update every day. Your favorites, follows, reviews, and even just the fact that you're reading this are what motivates me to keep writing this along with the five English papers that I have to write (five English classes probably wasn't the best idea).**

 **~Alix Marie**


	27. 50 Ways to Say Goodbye

"I don't know what to say," Matthew admitted, leaning back against the couch after Alfred had confessed what he had done. It had taken a while for the other boy to spit the words out, the guilt weighing so heavily on his conscience that he could barely speak. When he had, however, they'd come out all in a rush, leading to his brother staring at him in a vague state of shock.

"Tell me what to _do_ , Mattie," Alfred pleaded, lifting his head out of where it had been resting in his hands. His eyes were watering, lips red and swollen as a result of him biting them in his nervousness.

Matthew stared at him, eyebrows furrowed uncharacteristically. "Al, this isn't something that I can do for you," He reasoned, "It's your mistake, your problem, and you have to deal with it."

Alfred groaned in frustration, grasping harshly at his hair. "I know that I should tell him, but I don't know if I _can_ ," He complained, biting at his lip, "I mean, if I tell him that I read his personal,private diary, who _knows_ how much that could hurt him!"

Matthew raised an eyebrow, a dubious expression on his face. "Are you really sure that's the reason that you don't want to tell him?"

Alfred stared at him, offended by the insinuation. "Yes, it is!" He exclaimed, before he turned his head away, "Well, it is a little bit. I just – alright, maybe it's a little selfish, but I can't _help_ being selfish because I love him!"

"Calm down, Al," Matthew comforted, laying one hand against his brother's shoulder as he took a few deep breaths.

"If I tell him, he'll break up with me," Alfred whispered, his voice filling the dimly lit room, "You can't tell me that it won't happen, because it will. I betrayed him, I lied to him, _and_ I kept it a secret for who knows how many months? _I_ wouldn't even stay with me after that."

"But would it really be better to let it keep going on?" Matthew questioned, pulling his glasses off of his face and wiping them on the bottom of his shirt, "He's going to find out eventually, Al, you know that he will. I'm sure he'll forgive you if he hears it from you and not somebody else."

Alfred shook his head vigorously. "You don't know that, Mattie," He refuted, crossing his arms, "I can't risk what I have with him on the off chance that he's going to just forget about it. Besides, didn't you say that you weren't going to tell me what to do?"

Matthew let a frustrated breath out of his nose, shoving the glasses back onto his face. "Look, Alfred, I can honestly tell you that I couldn't care less about Arthur," He admitted, drawing a scandalized look out of his brother, "I only care about what's best for you. And right now, what's best for you is to get this guilt off of your chest. It's practically eating you alive."

"Not anymore," Alfred protested, "I told _you_ , didn't I? I mean, I feel better already."

"Are you _seriously_ considering not telling him?" Matthew questioned, an incredulous expression painted on his face, "Al, you can't just let this go. You can't be stupid enough to think that keeping secrets is somehow going to solve your relationship problems!"

Alfred pulled back, a hurt look passing across his face before he clenched his jaw. "Apparently I am, since I'm _stupid_ enough to confide in you."

"I didn't mean it that way," Matthew jerked out as his brother stood up off of the couch and began marching out of the room, "Alfred, you need to tell him. If you don't, _someone else will!_ "

Alfred ignored him, pushing his bedroom door open and slamming it behind him.

* * *

Monday morning was rough for Alfred, having gotten next to no sleep the night before. He walked into school with bags under his eyes, swaying on his feet as he moved throughout the hallways. His glasses kept slipping down his nose, not even possessing enough energy to move his arm upward to push them upwards. The good news was that he was so tired that he couldn't concentrate on the fight that he and Matthew had had the night before, having to put all of his attention on making sure that he remained upright.

In his muddled brain, he was sure that he had made the right choice. What would it matter if he was lying to him as long as their relationship remained intact? All he really cared about, after all, was being able to be in love with Arthur – he was sure that had to count for something. The guilt that had been welling up in him the night before had nearly evaporated by that point, quelled by his confession to his brother (though maybe he was just too tired to feel such a complicated emotion).

Thoughts drifted in and out of his head as he began to make his way towards the cafeteria, hoping that maybe getting a little food in his system would wake him up. His mouth opened in a yawn, walking in almost a haze down the hallway. He could barely focus on anything, relying on his subconscious memory to get him where he needed to go. At least, until he spotted a head of disheveled blond hair through the crowd of people.

 _Arthur_ , he thought, a smile breaking on his face. He knew that everything would be fine once his boyfriend was there, comforting him with his very presence. Alfred was sure that he would fuss over him, worrying about his tired state and lecturing him on his sleeping habits. It made him happy just to imagine it.

He raised his hand, preparing to wave at him, but lowered it when he noticed that standing next to the irritable boy was Francis, a disgruntled look on his face. Alfred was immediately suspicious, having never trusted him or his intentions, and watched in surprise as Francis disappeared into a classroom, Arthur following not far behind. _What?_ He asked himself before, against his better judgment, he slunk closer to the door in order to hear what they were saying.

"…do you want, frog?" He could hear Arthur snip out. He sounded frustrated, and Alfred snuck a little closer to the crack in the half-closed door.

"I need to talk to you, _cher_ ," Francis rushed out, sounding almost pained. Alfred frowned, wondering what could make his tone so odd and what it could possibly have to do with his boyfriend.

Arthur scoffed. "And you couldn't have done that out in the hallway?"

"I thought the nature of this was a bit…" Francis hesitated, "Sensitive."

There was a few beats of silence, accompanied by a vague shuffling noise that might have been someone sitting down. "What is it?" Arthur asked, his tone unimpressed.

Another second of quiet, and then Francis dryly stated, "It's about Alfred."

Alfred froze, his hands clenching as he stood in place. Francis was going to talk to his boyfriend about _him?_ What could he possibly have to say? What did he _know?_

"Oh, please," Arthur bit out sarcastically, "Don't tell me that you're jealous."

"This is serious, Arthur," Francis solemnly replied, "You're like a brother to me, and so I see it as my duty to tell you when someone that close to you is a liar."

Alfred didn't know where Francis was going, but he didn't like it. With a deep breath he burst into the room, forcing a smile onto his face before exclaiming, "Hey, Artie, I was looking everywhere for you! You better hurry up, we're gonna be late for lunch!"

Both of them stared at him in shock, Arthur jolting up out of the seat that he'd been sitting in. Neither of them said anything for a moment, too surprised at his sudden entrance, and Alfred let the smile slip from his face a bit. "Guys?" He asked, attempting to feign ignorance, "What's up?"

Arthur shook his head, coming back to his senses. "Nothing, love," He assured him, beginning to walk towards the doorway, "Let's get to lunch, I'm starving."

Francis stood there for a few seconds, eyes flickering between the two of them, before he seemed to make up his mind about something. "No," He stated, grasping Arthur's wrist, "I'm not going to let this go. He's _lying_ to you, Arthur."

Arthur shoved him off of him, turning around to glare at the taller boy. "I don't appreciate the insinuation, Francis." He bit out.

" _Insinuation?_ " Francis questioned, staring at him incredulously, "I'm not insinuating anything. I'm blatantly telling you that you can't trust this man."

Francis gestured towards him, and Alfred backed up a bit, wary of where the conversation was going. "Guys, maybe we should –"

"Alfred F. Jones is the most trustworthy man that I know," Arthur interrupted him, now completely ignoring him in favor of staring heatedly at the other boy, "He would never lie to me, I can say that for certain. He is kind, and considerate, and so damn honest that I'm surprised you can even look him in the eye!"

"Oh yes?" Francis laughed out, "Are you absolutely sure of that?

"Yes, I am." Arthur defended, chin jutting out as he stared up at the other boy defiantly.

"Would you bet your life on it?" He demanded, staring straight back.

Alfred attempted to step between them, but Arthur placed one arm across his chest, keeping him behind him. "Come on –"

"I would." Arthur interrupted once more, still not moving his gaze from Francis.

"He read your diary," Francis hissed out, making Alfred freeze where he stood. Arthur scoffed, not seeming to notice the shift in the air.

"Oh please," He rolled his eyes, "I don't have a diary. You're such a hypocrite, I don't even know where to start."

"The notebook where you write poetry about him," Francis continued harshly, "The one that no one knows about? He read it."

Now it was Arthur's turn to still, staring at Francis with blatant shock and distrust. "How do you know about that?" He breathed out, clenching his teeth.

"I know because your _perfect_ boyfriend read it," Francis bit out, gesturing towards Alfred with one hand, "Before you were even together he took it and read it,hid it for months on end, and he's been lying about it this whole time."

A few seconds of silence passed, Alfred unable to see Arthur's expression. "You're lying," Arthur whispered, "He wouldn't do that."

"Why don't you ask him?" Francis returned, crossing his arms.

Arthur turned slowly towards him, not meeting his gaze until the very last second. Alfred tried his hardest not to look at him, those pleading green eyes too much for him to handle. "Alfred?" He whispered, voice breaking on the second syllable, "You wouldn't do that, right?"

Alfred didn't respond, unable to lie to his face. Arthur sucked in a sharp breath, tears beginning to well in his eyes. " _Please_ , Alfred," He begged, "Tell me that you wouldn't do that."

"I didn't –" Alfred started and stopped, for a second seeing a glimmer of hope in his eyes, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Arthur stared at him for a moment as if unable to comprehend what he had just heard. "Y-you lied to me," He whispered out, lip quivering as a stray tear made its way down his face. He stood there, staring forlornly at the ground, before clenching his jaw and looking up at him sharply. "You fucking _lied_ to me."

Alfred backed up under the force of his glare, lifting his palms in front of himself defensively. "Artie –"

"Oh, no," Arthur spat out bitterly, "You don't _get_ to 'Artie' me. You read my _private_ notebook – I thought that I'd lost it, but apparently my lying arsehole of a boyfriend had it the whole time!"

"Arthur, please," He begged, but the other boy only moved towards him, hands clenched into fists.

"I cannot _believe_ that you would betray me like that. I thought –" Arthur choked on his words, "I thought that you loved me."

"I did! I do," Alfred pleaded, reaching forward to grasp Arthur's balled up hands, "Babe –"

"Don't call me that!" Arthur screamed, slapping Alfred's hand away before his entire form seemed to steel itself.

"I want you _out_ ," He hissed, "I want you out of my head, I want you out of my heart, I want you out of my _entire fucking life!_ "

Alfred reached forward once more in a last-ditch effort to do _something_ , but Arthur only backed away towards the door, eyes distrusting. "It's over, Alfred. I don't ever want to speak to you again."

With that he turned, walking straight out of the door. Alfred could feel his heart shattering into pieces as he watched him leave, his entire being begging him to follow. He tried to run after him, but his wrist was grasped by Francis, who pulled him back into the room. "Let him go, _cher_ ," He reasoned, finally saying something after being silent the whole conversation.

"How?" Alfred whispered, lip trembling, "How did you know?"

"How did I know what?" Francis asked, seeming genuinely confused.

Alfred looked upwards, eyes glistening as he stared at the other boy. "How did you know about the notebook? Nobody knows about that. I didn't _tell_ anyone about that."

Francis shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't say _anyone_ ," He replied, "Your brother mentioned it."

Alfred gasped, staring at him in shock. "Mattie did this?" He whispered, eyes wide. He clenched his teeth, face contorting into a scowl. After a beat of hesitation he turned, sprinting out of the door without waiting to hear Francis's response.

It didn't take too long for him to find Matthew, who liked to eat his lunch in one of the small outside courtyards that littered the school. He ran up to him, thrusting his palms onto the table and gasping for breath as he rasped out, "How could you?"

"What?" Matthew asked, sitting down the sandwich that he'd been in the middle of eating.

"I knew that you thought I should tell him," Alfred bit out, balling his fists, "But I never thought that you'd go this far to prove a fucking point."

"Keep your voice down!" Matthew whispered, looking around him to see if anyone had heard his twin swear, "Alfred, I've got no idea what you're talking about."

"You told Francis," He hissed out, eyes wet with tears, "You told Francis and Francis told Arthur and – and –"

Alfred choked back a sob, trying to force all of his emotion into the anger and betrayal that he felt for his brother. That, at least, was something that he could identify and do something about. Fury was tangible, and it was easier to feel indignant that it was to feel heartbroken.

"What?" Matthew stared at him in shock, white as a sheet, "He told _Arthur?_ Francis and Arthur _know each other?_ "

"Oh, don't act all innocent when you've just ruined my life," Alfred snapped, "You couldn't be more obvious. I mean, 'If I don't tell him, someone else will'? You can't try to tell me that you didn't do this on purpose."

"I didn't!" Matthew exclaimed, face still pale as a ghost, "Alfred, we're brothers, you know that I wouldn't do something like that to you! I was just ranting to him, I had no idea that he even _knew_ your boyfriend!"

"He broke up with me," Alfred stated, voice heated, "I – I love him, and he broke up with me because you wanted to prove a point. I trusted you."

Alfred tried to ignore how much his words sounded like the ones that Arthur had thrown at him only minutes before. "Alright, fine, blame me," Matthew retorted, finally angering at his words, "But I'm not the one who lied to his boyfriend, and I'm sure as hell not the one who broke up with you."

Alfred stared at him for a moment, gritting his teeth so hard that it hurt, before turning on his heel and walking straight out of the school.

* * *

 **Alfred, you drama queen, it's illegal to leave school in the middle of the day.**

 **Our two little nerds are broken up, and right before the AP test too! I wonder what's going to happen to them (just kidding, I know exactly what's going to happen).**

 **Well for some reason this chapter is reeeally long compared to most of them. It guess it's a good idea that I split this whole thing up, otherwise I would have ended up with one 8k chapter rather than what I did write.**

 **Thank you all so much for the support you've given this fic. I really do appreciate all of you!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	28. Walking on Broken Glass

Alfred skipped school for three days after that, choosing to stay in his bed than to face his problems. His parents thought that he'd come down with a nasty flu, which wasn't entirely untrue – he certainly _felt_ sick to his stomach. All he could do was lie there crying, attempting to stifle his sniffles whenever Matthew came to his door.

His brother kept trying to apologize, but Alfred couldn't forgive him, not yet. Maybe not at all. He knew that Matthew hadn't known, but he had still divulged one of his most important secrets to someone who was practically a stranger. Worse yet, it had led to him loosing Arthur, even after all the effort it took for them to get together in the first place. He felt so betrayed – and so sick knowing that that was exactly how _Arthur_ felt about _him_.

Alfred groaned, rolling over in his bed. He had been trying not to think about Arthur, but the other boy wouldn't stay out of his mind for long. When he'd imagined this scenario earlier, he'd thought that once the secret was out he'd feel less guilty, but in reality it was so much worse than before. He'd felt bad knowing that he was even _capable_ of hurting Arthur like that, but seeing the look on his face when he found out absolutely tore him apart. He couldn't deal with it all – the guilt, the heartbreak, the hurt – and so he just sat in bed watching movies and trying to come up with a plan to win him back.

Unfortunately, his parents weren't completely stupid, and when he tried to skip out a fourth day, they called his bluff and made him go to school. Alfred begrudgingly shuffled onto the bus, trying his hardest to ignore the pleading looks that Matthew was sending his way. He shoved his headphones into his ears, the two of them spending the entire ride in silence, Alfred refusing to acknowledge his brother's existence. As they drove closer and closer to the school, he could feel himself getting more and more nervous. How was he supposed to face Arthur? He wasn't sure he could even look the other boy in the eye after what had happened.

Most of his morning classes were spent in a daze, wondering what he was going to do about the entire situation. He was dreading going to lunch and seeing Arthur for the first time since the incident, but he was also afraid that he _wouldn't_ see him, and therefore wouldn't have to opportunity to explain himself or apologize. In the end, when lunchtime came around he just headed to the library, opting to hide instead of just getting it over with. _I'll have to see him in chemistry anyway_ , He reasoned, trying to find any excuse he could.

Alfred's stomach growled as he leaned back into one of the library chairs, sprawling his legs across the floor. What little things he had were shoved onto the bookshelf next to him, the clock the only thing visible from the small nook he was hiding in. He had tried to work on the homework he had missed, but with everything on his mind it seemed like nothing was going to get done. He would have groaned if he'd had the energy.

A few seconds later he could hear footsteps approaching, and he looked up to see Gilbert staring at him with a wide grin. "So you're finally back, huh?" He laughed out, sitting in the chair next to his.

"Aw," Alfred teased, trying to act as if he was his normal self and not completely heartbroken, "Did you miss me?"

Gilbert scoffed, a look of disgust passing across his face. "Alfred, you're my bro, so no hard feelings," He responded, "But I would _so_ not tap that."

Alfred laughed, picking his things up off the table as he turned to face him. "Man, why'd you have to go and make it all weird?" He complained, "I was just asking if you missed me. No homo, dude."

"No homo?" Gilbert snorted, cracking up laughing, "You and I both know that we are _full_ homo."

"Not for you I'm not," Alfred joked, shoving himself out of his chair and starting to move towards the exit.

"Face it Alfred, we'd make the perfect couple," He teased, smirking, "All you'd need to do is break up with your boyfriend and then BAM! Dream pair."

Alfred could feel his face fall at that, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot as he waited on the bell to ring. "Uh," He stuttered out, "Not really."

"Not really!" Gilbert exclaimed, pretending to act offended, "What else could you want from the awesome me?"

"No, it's…um," Alfred paused, sucking in a breath, "Arthur isn't my boyfriend."

The words were hard to force out, seeming so wrong on his tongue, especially after he spent so long trying to avoid that fact. Gilbert simply stared at him in disbelief, Alfred shuffling around under his gaze. After a few seconds of awkward silence, he blurted out, "What?"

"He kinda broke up with me," Alfred replied, rubbing at the back of his neck and looking away.

"You're kidding!" Gilbert exclaimed, mouth dropping open as Alfred shook his head, "But you guys were like the perfect couple! I mean, sure you argued, but it was never actually serious. We were all taking bets on when you were getting _married_ , for crying out loud. What happened?"

Alfred shrugged awkwardly, feeling his chest tighten with every word. They really _had_ been a great couple, but then he had to go and screw everything up. He could feel the guilt welling up, his eyes beginning to water slightly as he was faced once more with the reality of what he had lost.

"That sucks," Gilbert sympathized, patting him on the back once before beginning to walk out of the library doors, "I feel sorry for you, bro."

The bell rang and Alfred nearly sighed, glad to have gotten out of having to respond. They walked together in silence to the chemistry room, his stomach clenching more and more with every step they took. He might have been able to skip lunch, but he couldn't get out of this one – not after skipping three days of school. He was going to have to face Arthur.

He tried to think of what he was going to say. He'd have to apologize right off the bat, just to get it off of his chest at the very least. Besides, he knew the other boy well enough to know that he probably wouldn't even attempt to have a civil conversation otherwise. Then he'd explain that he didn't mean to hurt him, and that he _really did_ try not to read it (and then apologize a few more times so that he knew he wasn't trying to make excuses). And then what? How was he supposed to make Arthur forgive him enough that he'd want to get back together? Was it even possible?

As they finally came to the door of the chemistry room, he steeled his jaw. It didn't matter how likely it was that it would happen – he had to try either way. After all, he was a hero, and heroes didn't just let these kinds of things happen without at least trying to make amends.

He took a deep breath and shoved the door open, stepping inside the sparsely-populated room. His eyes immediately gravitated towards Arthur, watching as his shoulders tensed, hand pausing in its writing for a moment before picking back up again. He moved forward cautiously, sitting a chair away from him just in case he was still overly touchy (and by that he meant 'explosively angry'). Fortunately for Alfred, he didn't seem to want to kill him, so that was a start in the right direction at least.

As the teacher walked into the room and began preparing for something (were they having a lab?), Alfred turned towards Arthur, an awkward look plastered onto his face.

"Hey, Arthur," He began in a whisper, mentally cursing himself for being so tongue-tied when he so much needed not to be, "Uh, it's been a while, huh?"

Arthur didn't look up, continuing to write notes in his lab notebook. "I stayed home sick for a few days," He blabbered on, trying to fill the silence, "Do, uh…do you know what we're doing in class today?"

He didn't bother replying, and Alfred swallowed harshly. "I'm sorry," He breathed out, a pained look on his face, "I didn't mean to do it, it just kind of happened. I never wanted to hurt you. I swear, I'd take it all back in a heartbeat if I could. I just…I'm sorry."

Alfred glanced up, tears welling in his eyes as he tried to plead with him. After a few moments, Arthur glanced up, and he felt his heart leap. Maybe he hadn't _completely_ ruined everything, and there might be a chance for him after all.

"Mr. Brewer," Arthur called across the room, jaw set hard as steel, "You know, we've had these lab partners for an awfully long time. We ought to switch them around, don't you think?"

The chemistry teacher looked up from his place at the front of the classroom, and Alfred could feel his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. "You're right," He responded, "I mean, I usually try to keep partners for an entire year, but with a class as small as this one it might be good for all of us to get to know each other a little better."

Alfred was in a daze as the teacher moved in front of the desk, pointing at various students. "Alfred, you can be with Elizaveta. Antonio, go with Gilbert. Then let's have Lili and Francis, and finally Katyusha and Arthur."

Mr. Brewer looked around the room as the students moved to their new positions, almost as if he was surveying his work. Alfred had to bite his lip to keep any tears from slipping out as he crossed to the other side of the room. Arthur was _ignoring_ him. Not only that, but he was so angry that he wouldn't even be his _lab partner_ anymore. He couldn't patch this up – not even a miracle could get Arthur to forgive him at this point. His stomach clenched at the thought that maybe that really was it for them.

"Alright class, now that we've got our new partners let's go ahead and get started on this lab!" The teacher exclaimed, the rest of the students following him in order to get their notebooks signed. Alfred simply stood there in shock, unable to move with the realization that Arthur probably hated him. He could feel the tears starting to prick at the corners of his eyes, and all of a sudden his wished that his brother were there. Matthew had always been there for him, had always held him when he was upset, had been there through thick and thin, and he needed him now more than ever. _But I can't tell Mattie,_ He thought with a jolt, _Because he betrayed me just like I betrayed Arthur_.

With that he reached up, slid the glasses off of his face, and in one swift motion, smashed them into the tabletop. The noise caused the rest of the class to turn around, staring at him in surprise. There were a few moment of complete silence before Alfred finally looked up at them, his eyes immediately locking with Arthur's.

Arthur looked the most shocked out of all of them, his harsh composure finally breaking as their gazes met. He seemed almost torn as the stared at the other boy, his expression a mixture of anger, worry, and something else he couldn't quite name. He looked so vulnerable in that moment, his lip almost quivering as he stood there completely immobile.

Arthur opened his mouth as if to say something, but Alfred snapped his gaze away, gathering up the broken shards into one of his hands, letting out a small _hiss_ when one of them cut him. "These things break really easily, huh?" He forced out a laugh, refusing to move his eyes away from the table, "I mean, you drop them and they're done for. Is it alright if I go to the nurse? My hands got cut up pretty bad."

The teacher nodded his consent and Alfred left the room, throwing the shards into the trash. He could feel Arthur's gaze burning into back as he walked through the door, but he didn't bother to look back.

* * *

 **Alfred, I don't even know where to start with you. You're literally such a drama queen.**

 **Wow, I think that's the longest I've ever gone between chapters before. Senior year is pretty harsh, but I promise that I won't ever let it go this long again (two weeks? Geez).**

 **We are getting** _ **really**_ **close to the end here, though. I couldn't tell you exactly how many chapters are left, but there's** _ **probably**_ **less than ten. Probably.**

 **Thank you all so much for reading/reviewing/following/favoriting! It really does mean the world to me!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	29. Mr Brightside

"So what are we even doing here?" Alfred asked, eyeing the bits of lab equipment that lay strewn about him. He and Elizaveta were standing by one of the large white fume hoods, the rest of the class remaining on the other side of the wall. _Technically_ , there were two fume hoods and therefore should have been enough room for two groups to do their experiments, but Francis and Antonio had done something in their last lab that had left it completely unusable. They'd all drawn straws, and in the end they were the ones who got to use the remaining box.

"What do you mean?" Asked Elizaveta, who was bustling around the countertop, preparing things for their lab. She paused in her ministrations to look up at him, goggles hung haphazardly around her neck as if they were a necklace rather than a piece of safety equipment. Alfred stared at her cautiously, her entire being putting him on guard. There was something about her that intimidated him, making him afraid that if he asked a stupid question she might rip his head off.

"Well, uh," He stuttered out, her assertive expression making him want to take a step back, "I mean what are we doing? Like, what's this lab all about?"

Elizaveta stared at him for a moment, a blank expression on her face. "You're kidding, right?" She questioned, quirking an eyebrow. Alfred instinctively reached upward to adjust his glasses to diffuse his awkwardness, freezing halfway upward and jolting his hand down at the realization that they weren't on his face anymore.

"No?" He asked, cringing at the thought that he had somehow just signed his own death warrant. They stood there like that for a moment, neither of them moving in the awkward silence, before Elizaveta simply burst out laughing. Alfred stared at her, completely dumbfounded.

"How did you even get _into_ the lab without knowing what we're doing today?" She asked, shaking her head in what seemed like fond exasperation, "It's only been the talk of AP Chem for the past three days."

Alfred shrugged, sheepish. "Bad memory?" He fumbled out, lifting his hands in front of him. In truth, he didn't even know if he had even been at school when the subject of that day's lab had been mentioned, but if he was he didn't remember it. His mind had been so full of other things lately that he barely had any time to concentrate on his schoolwork.

Elizaveta laughed again, breathing a snort out of her nose. "We're making aspirin, genius," She snarked, pulling the goggles up over her face and leaving a strange bump in her ponytail, "Did you even do the lab prep?"

"Yes, I –" Alfred stopped abruptly in the middle of his retort, suddenly realizing just how much her words reminded him of Arthur. The snarky wit as well as assertive nature that they both shared was certainly different, but similar enough that it caused a pang to go through his chest. It hadn't been that long – almost a week now – but it felt like a lifetime. He couldn't believe how much he missed the other boy, even though he was standing right on the other side of the wall at that very moment.

It didn't help that Arthur kept pretending that he didn't exist. Aside from his momentary lapse the day that Alfred had come back to school, he had spent the entire time ignoring every single thing that he did. He wouldn't respond to his messages, wouldn't answer his calls, and, worst of all, he wouldn't even acknowledge him if they were standing face-to-face. It was as if he was completely invisible, and it killed him to know that he must have hurt him _really_ bad if he couldn't even find it in himself to be angry with him.

"Hello? Alfred?" A voice called, and Alfred snapped out of his reverie to see Elizaveta waving a hand in front of his face. He blinked a few times as the girl moved backwards, looking at him with a hint of a laugh on her face. "You were kind of zoning out right there."

"Oh, uh," Alfred breathed out, trying to bring himself back into the present, "Right. Sorry about that."

Elizaveta shrugged, moving back over to the countertop to begin weighing out some sort of substance in a clear, orange-ish bottle. "Anyway," She continued, turning her head slightly to address him, "What was it you were going to say?"

"Eh, it's nothing," He replied, shoving himself off of the stool and heading towards the counter to look over the procedure that he had written in his notebook (he must have been completely out of it when he wrote this – he couldn't remember a single line). "So, what have you done already and what can I do next?"

"I haven't really done anything," She explained, pouring the substance into a miniscule Erlenmeyer flask, "But if you want you can handle the liquids. I can monitor things under the fume hood by myself for now, so if you get any spare time maybe set up the Buchner funnel?"

Alfred nodded, setting off to the side of the classroom where he knew the graduated cylinders were kept. Working with Elizaveta was so much different that how things had been with Arthur, and he was startled by now… _nice_ it was. When he had done labs with his ex-boyfriend things had been fun, sure, but a lot of their time was spent with him trying to explain the chemistry to him, holding little mini-lessons in the middle of the experiments. With Elizaveta, however, things seemed to just fall into place. She was a smart girl, and very professional about the work they were doing. He never really needed to tell her what to do, or vice versa. He was almost startled by the realization that it was _refreshing_.

He felt like an asshole for thinking it, but it really was kind of pleasant to just do the work without having to tutor somebody else. After all, he wanted to be a science teacher for a reason, and while part of it was about helping kids to learn, a larger part was about his love of science. He had almost forgotten how passionate he was on the subject, and it felt good to enjoy an experiment for more than just the fact that it was an uninterrupted hour of time with Arthur.

* * *

"Got it!" Elizaveta called from the other side of the room, and Alfred readied his hand on the handle of the aspirator. In a few moments she was right next to him, pouring the water over the filter as he made sure that everything was working as it was supposed to. They moved in tandem, not a word being spoken between them until the last drop of liquid had been poured into the flask below.

"I think that's all of it," Elizaveta breathed out, pulling the goggles back down around her neck with a proud look on her face, "We just successfully made our own aspirin."

Alfred stared back at her with a grin, holding his hand up for a well-deserved high five. Elizaveta laughed, but rammed her hand into his anyway. "It's too bad I don't have a headache right now," He beamed, "Or else I'd have tried some to see how well it worked."

Elizaveta raised one eyebrow, leveling a look at him. "That's probably not the best idea, considering neither of us actually know how accurate we were," She reasoned, "Basically, don't drink accidentally drink acid, genius."

Alfred laughed once more, but conceded her point. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Only _probably?_ " Elizaveta almost shrieked out, but he could see the hint of humor hiding behind her eyes.

"I'm going to go wash my hands before we run out of time," Alfred laughed, turning away from their work station, "I've been late to trig enough times to know that I can't wait until the bell rings to do clean up, ya know?"

He gave a slight wave as he walked past the wall, Elizaveta giving him a sympathetic look as he made his way towards the sinks. It may have just been his friendly nature, but he really thought that they worked well together – their personalities just seemed to mesh in an odd way. He barely even paid attention to what was going on around him, too excited at the prospect that he had just made a new friend. He pulled up his sleeves as he neared the sinks, distraction clouding his mind so much that he didn't even notice that he had run in to somebody until it was too late.

"Aw, geez, sorry," He apologized, reaching down to pick up the goggles that had fallen off the top of his head, "I wasn't really paying attention to where I was –"

He looked up only to find piercing green eyes staring back up at him. "-going." He breathed out, swallowing the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. Arthur stared straight at him, the other boy's breath seemed to hitch as their gazes locked. They were barely inches away from each other, their breaths mingling in the space in between them, and Alfred felt an odd sense of déjà vu. He looked so soft, so vulnerable, that he couldn't tear himself away – but he didn't have to. After a few seconds Arthur wrenched himself backwards, seemed almost disgusted with the position he had been in.

Arthur didn't say anything, not even bothering to acknowledge the fact that they had bumped into each other in the first place. Alfred stood up, feeling his heart heave but electing to ignore it, turning back towards the sink to try and complete the task he had set out to do in the first place. He didn't get too far, however, when he heard a voice call out from behind him.

"Alfred, I've gotta ask you something," Elizaveta exclaimed, coming up next to him and placing a hand casually on his shoulder. She spared a quick glance to Arthur, who was still standing awkwardly against the granite countertop, before turning back to Alfred with a quick grin. "Where did you get the Buchner funnel at? I've been looking everywhere but I can't find where it's supposed to be stored."

Alfred stared at her in surprise before letting a small smile slip onto his face. "I got it from the cabinet that has all the volumetric glassware in it. It's kind of a weird place, I know, but that's Brewer for ya," He laughed out, "You didn't have to put that all away though, I could have done it myself."

Elizaveta shrugged, her smile widening just a bit. "It wasn't really a big deal," She reasoned, "I was cleaning it all up anyway, so why make you stay here later than you need to, you know?"

"Still," Alfred continued, giving her a grateful smile, "That's pretty cool of you. Seriously, thanks."

"No problem!" She grinned back, waving her fingers at him as she turned away from where they were standing, "I'm gonna finish cleaning up the mess now. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Yeah, totally!" Alfred beamed, waving back as she departed. There were a few seconds of him simply standing there before he remembered that he had actually come there with a purpose, and turned back around to try and wash his hands once more. He spun on his heel, surprised to see Arthur still standing by the sink.

Arthur's hands were clenched into fists, an odd expression flitting across his face as he stared in the direction that Elizaveta had gone in. His teeth were gritted, his eyes seeming something halfway between anger and hurt, and his ears looked as if they were burning red-hot. Alfred wanted to ask him what was wrong, but he knew that it wasn't really his business anymore – Arthur had made sure of that. Besides, he had never seen that sort of look on the other boy's face before. He couldn't say why, but it seemed really out of place.

After a moment Arthur seemed to relax, and with a quick glace up at Alfred he left, the tips of his ears still red as a tomato. Alfred wanted to wonder about what could have possibly made his ex-boyfriend look like that, but he decided against it – he had been thinking about Arthur too much lately. It was alright at first, to let himself feel both lovesick and heartbroken all at the same time. But at this point all it was doing was making him feel worse, especially knowing that he had no chance to ever win him back. He had to cut Arthur completely out of his life, just as Arthur had cut him out of his.

For a moment, the thought crossed his mind that Arthur might need him – at the very least, need his tutoring in a subject that he struggled with when he was alone – but he brushed it away. There was nothing he could do about it now.

* * *

 **Oh Alfred, you nerd, Arthur is pretty dang jealous of Elizaveta. All hope is totally not lost.**

 **So I think there's going to be at least one, maybe two chapters before we get to the AP Exam chapter, but after that I really don't know where this is going to go. I've got the ending all planned out, but the space between the exam and June is pretty undecided – except for underclassmen week, of course. I've definitely got plans for what will probably be the horribly awkward underclassmen week.**

 **Thank you all so much for the support you've given this fic! All of your reviews, favorites, follows, and views really do keep me motivated to keep writing this in spite of everything else! Really, you're all some of the absolute sweetest people, and I'm so happy that you all like this!**

 **(Also, over a hundred reviews? Wow! I am literally so grateful for all of this!)**

 **~Alix Marie**


	30. Used to Dream of Outer Space

Alfred sighed, leaning over his notebooks in utter exhaustion. There were only two days left until AP exams stared, and, unfortunately for him, the Chemistry exam took place on the first day of testing. If it was just a normal test, he would have felt prepared – maybe even overly so. But this was the first AP exam he'd ever be taking, and he had no idea what to expect from it. So for the past few days he'd stayed up late into the night, completely ignoring any and all responsibilities he might have had, in order to go over the material just a few more times.

The lack of sleep wasn't boding very well for him. He usually tried to get at least seven hours each night, knowing just how awful he tended to feel when he got any less, but lately he'd been getting four hours at the maximum. He swore to himself every night that he'd sleep later, that he'd make up for it all by getting a good night's sleep the day after, but every night he ended up putting it off. At the very least, he'd sleep a full eight hours the night before the exam – nine, if he could manage it. He couldn't go into the exam sleep-deprived or he could risk ruining everything that he'd worked towards.

There was a lot riding on this exam, not all of it completely academic. He felt as if this exam was the only way to prove to himself that he really _was_ good enough without the glasses, that his knowledge was due to his effort and not a simple accessory. It seemed silly when he thought about it, but somehow that pressure made everything so much worse. If he really did fail this exam, he wouldn't know what to do. Every bit of the self-esteem that he possessed was on the line, and the stress of it all was getting to him.

Alfred reached up, rubbing at his eyes in the dim light. He instinctively tried to readjust his glasses, completely forgetting that what was left of them was lying in the bottom of the trash. He had been doing that a lot ever since he broke them – automatically grasping for them only to realize with a clench of his heart that they weren't there anymore. He could admit to himself that it scared him a little not to have them there, but he had made a promise to himself that he wouldn't buy a new pair. When he'd smashed them on the table, he knew that that had to be the end, that he couldn't allow himself to fall into that frame of mind any longer. Just like it was with Arthur.

He groaned into his hands, leaning his face into his palms and resting there. Alfred supposed that it was inevitable for him to think about the boy, considering that he still loved him even after being separated for so long. The issue with it was that he wished that he _didn't_. When his thoughts turned to Arthur, his shining green eyes and messy blond hair and that absolutely gorgeous smile, all he felt was heartbreak. In spite of his lingering love (or, perhaps, because of it), picturing his ex-boyfriend left a hollow feeling in his chest and caused tears to start welling in his eyes. Despite of how hard he had tried to forget him, he just wouldn't stop invading Alfred's mind.

A knock sounded on the door, hesitant and gentle, and Alfred was shocked out of his reverie. He turned towards the door, everything seeming bleary after staring at his chemistry textbook for so long in the dim light. At two in the morning, there was no question as to who would be at his door – but he wasn't going to let him in. Matthew had been the catalyst of this entire ordeal, and while he understood now that his brother hadn't meant to ruin his relationship, that didn't mean that he hadn't still betrayed him. Those secrets had been told to him in confidence and, malicious or not, he had still told them to someone else. It wasn't the fact that he had told Francis that made him angry anymore – it was the fact that he had told anyone at all.

Alfred turned back towards his books, pretending to study as his brother nudged open his bedroom door. "Al?" He questioned softly, edging towards the desk, "It's pretty late. Maybe you should be getting to bed."

Alfred didn't bother to reply, staring stony-faced at his notes. He heard his brother sigh, and all of a sudden a steaming mug was placed next to his textbook. "Yeah, I figured you wouldn't," He reasoned gently, "I brought you some coffee. Just try not to stay up too late, alright? It's not healthy."

He could hear his brother turn on his heel, footsteps slowly padding towards the door. Alfred took a quick glance towards the cup beside him, and nearly froze. It _couldn't_ be – but there was no doubt about it. It was unmistakable. "Matt," He whispered cautiously, hearing the footfalls pause, "Is this Starbucks?"

"Uh, yeah," His brother mumbled, "I just picked some up on my way home."

Alfred stared at the desk in front of him, gears turning in his mind. "On your way home from a half hour from here?" He asked, not moving his eyes from his textbooks.

"Well, I, uh…" His brother stuttered out, voice soft in the darkness, "Not exactly. You just seemed like you've been really down lately, and I know that Starbucks is your favorite, and since you don't really get it that often I figured I'd just drive over and get some."

Alfred reached forward, pulling the drink to his mouth and taking a quick sip, almost spitting it out with how scalding it was on his tongue. It was still hot, almost overly so, and that could only mean one thing – Matthew had driven an hour round trip to the next town over at _one in the morning_ just to get him his favorite coffee. He was completely stunned by the realization, the drink nearly dropping from his hand as he began to shake slightly. It was a simple gesture, but one that struck Alfred to the core of his being, making him suddenly aware of just how lost he was without his brother to rely on.

"I…" He began, voice thick with the tears that were welling in his eyes, "Mattie, I can't do this."

With those words, everything that had been filling the air between them with tension dropped, and Matthew was at his side immediately. "You can't do what?" He asked gently, kneeling down beside the desk and folding his arms onto its surface.

Alfred almost sighed in relief with how _easy_ it had been for them to slip right back into their old routine, and he was so grateful that his brother didn't seem to hold anything against him even though he ignored him for so long. "The chemistry exam is in two days, and I don't have Arthur or – or even the glasses to rely on," He breathed out, feeling his stomach clench, "I feel like my entire future depends on this one test, and I just – I just _can't_."

"You can't what?" Matthew asked, pulling Alfred's chair away from the desk and turning it towards him so that he could look him in the eye.

Alfred stared at him, his brother's face so familiar in the dim light that he had to choke back a sob. "I can't do it. I'm going to fail," He whispered, lip quivering, "I don't want to go. Can't I just skip this? Can't I just _not do_ this one thing?"

With that, he felt the tears begin to flow hot down his face, and Matthew reached forward and gathered him in his arms. Their position was somewhat awkward, but even so Alfred relaxed into it, unable to stop himself from feeling comforted by the gesture. He hiccupped out a sob, and his brother stood up, dragging him out of the chair and shoving him down onto his bed, flopping down beside him.

"You really need to take breaks, Al," Matthew breathed out with a bittersweet smile, allowing his brother to continue sobbing into his shoulder, "You're putting too much pressure on yourself."

"B-but I can't help it," Alfred stuttered out, peering up at his brother with red-rimmed eyes, "This is my entire life, Mattie – if I don't do this right, then I really _am_ worthless without my glasses."

"You're not worthless," Matthew defended, seeming almost offended by the statement.

"N-no wonder Arthur b-broke up with me," Alfred choked out, staining the sleeve of his twin's shirt with his tears, "I-I'm pathetic."

"Alright, that's about enough of that," Matthew gritted out, pulling his brother away from him and staring him in the eyes, "You're not pathetic, you're not worthless, you aren't _anything_ like that. You made a mistake, but that doesn't mean you're any less of a person! You're top of our class, you've got straight A's, and you're going to do great on this test – but even more than that, you're a _good person_ , Alfred. You're kind, well-meaning, and you've got a heart of fucking gold, so stop thinking of yourself as less than you really are!"

Alfred stared at his brother, dumbfounded at his sudden outburst. He hadn't even known that his brother felt that strongly about him, but the speech had left him completely silent, unable to respond to anything that he had just said. A hush filled the room, the comfortable quiet broken only by Alfred's sniffling.

A few moments later, Matthew spoke, his voice gentle. "How about we make right now a separate time," He whispered, Alfred flicking his eyes upwards, "Where you don't have to worry about anything. Just for right now, imagine as if none of that is going to happen. Leave the stress until tomorrow."

Alfred sucked in a breath as if to protest, but blew it out just as quickly. While he'd like to argue with him, he had to admit that it did sound nice to just forget about the fears that were hurriedly building up inside of him as the test grew closer and closer. "Alright," He conceded, leaning his head back against the wall and letting his eyes slip closed for a little while.

Silence reigned once again, comforting in the presence of his brother. It had always been that way, ever since they were little. It was just Al and Mattie, neither of them really needing anybody else because they always had each other to rely on. They'd had their own secret twin-language, something that everyone else liked to jokingly refer to as 'telepathy', but what they knew was really just the fact that they knew each other well enough to know what they were saying. They were completely inseparable, and Alfred had always been so sure that he would never need another person as long as he had Mattie. But that was before he'd met Arthur.

Even sitting in the soothing company of his twin, he could still feel the hole in his heart that the other boy had occupied. It was with a jolting kind of sadness that he realized that he still needed Arthur, needed him at that moment even more than he needed Matthew. He could almost hear his voice, telling him how 'everything would be okay' while he petted at his hair, holding him close. It was aching to think about, and he closed his eyes even tighter shut.

"I miss him," He whispered into the darkness, tears dripping down his cheeks and onto his lips. Only a moment later, he felt a hand on his shoulder, coaxing him to lie down on the bed.

"I know," Matthew sympathized as Alfred's head made contact with the pillow, dragging the covers up over his body.

"No, you don't understand," Alfred insisted, voice trembling in his half-asleep state, "I really, _really_ miss him."

He began to sob again, all of the tears he had pent up over the past few weeks falling out of him, Matthew staying by his side until he finally cried himself to sleep.

* * *

 **Well this was a chapter that wasn't supposed to happen. I really have no idea where it came from – this chapter was originally meant to be about Elizaveta, but I started writing and it just morphed into this. Even so, with this chapter we've hit 30 chapters and 70k, which are two milestones that I'm kind of super excited about (how in the world does this have so many words?)**

 **So the AP exam may or may not be in the next chapter. I still haven't decided if I want to go through what happens the day before or just save those events for after the test and have the test be next. Decisions, decisions. Either way, you shouldn't have to wait** _ **too**_ **long for the next chapter, considering the fact that it's labor day weekend.**

 **I know I say this every chapter, but I really do mean it – thank you all so much for the support you've given this! Every single thing you guys do keeps me motivated to keep writing this thing, and I'm so appreciative of all of it. You're all the absolute sweetest!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	31. Testing, 1, 2, 3

Alfred hurried down the hallway, grasping the yellow slip of paper in his hand, every once in a while glancing down at it in nervousness. They had told him that the test was going to be taking place in room 208 (a room that he had doubted the existence of in the first place), but when he had finally arrived there he'd found it completely full with students, none of which were in his chemistry class. Usually, this wouldn't have worried him too much – he could just ask around until he found where he was supposed to be – but the issue was that if he wasn't in the room by 7:45, they wouldn't let him take the test. Even if they hadn't started it yet, if he wasn't in the room at the designated time he'd be completely barred from the entire thing.

He rushed past the doors, quickly peeking inside each of them to see if the rest of his class was there, waiting to take the test without him. He glanced at one of the clocks as he went past it, frowning as he saw that it read 7:41. Biting his lip, he continued on, checking the paper once more to make sure that he'd read the number of the room correctly. It still read 208, and he _still_ had no idea where he was supposed to be.

Alfred turned on his heel, spinning in the middle of the hallway and making his way back to where he had come from. Maybe he had missed the room on his first walk through, or maybe 208 was empty now, but either was he was relatively sure that the way he was going wasn't where he was supposed to be.

 _At least I feel prepared_ , he thought to himself, suddenly grateful that his brother had forced him into going to bed at a decent time the night before. He knew himself well enough to tell that if he'd stayed up until three in the morning studying he wouldn't remember anything that he'd read whatsoever. Instead, he felt completely ready to take on the test, the things that he'd gone over buzzing comfortably in the back of his mind. He held onto that confidence as he rushed back through the hallway, hoping that it would get him through this without his glasses to rely on.

As he hurried across the concrete floor, he almost ran into Arthur, who was walking slowly but purposefully the opposite way. He nearly sighed in relief as he saw him, rushing up to his side and belting out, "Arthur! Do you know where we're supposed to be going?"

Arthur turned towards him, startled, and Alfred had to keep his jaw from hanging open. The other boy looked like an absolute wreck. His skin was sickly pale, his eyes dull above the dark bags that hung underneath. It seemed as if he hadn't slept for days, his hands shaking under all of the stress and pressure of the exam. Alfred couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight.

"Room 208," Arthur mumbled out, continuing down the hallway, and it took all of Alfred's willpower to force himself to follow him. He was so distractedly worried about the other boy that his mind didn't even process the fact that those were the first words that Arthur had said to him in weeks.

"I, uh," He stuttered out, trying to act as if nothing was wrong (after all, it wasn't his business to worry about Arthur anymore), "I went there, but it was already full of another class."

Arthur spared him a quick glance, biting at his lip in anxiety. "Which one?" He asked abruptly, leaving Alfred to stare at him in confusion.

"Which _one?_ " He questioned, trying to decipher what that could possibly mean. _Maybe Arthur's gone completely nuts from all of the stress,_ Alfred thought to himself, following the other boy as he continued to half-stumble down the hallway.

"Yes," Arthur stated, looking at Alfred as if _he_ was the one spouting nonsense, "208a or 208b?"

Alfred simply stared at him, completely dumbfounded. "There are two?" He asked, running his hands through his hair in his confusion.

"All of the classrooms down this hall are split into two sections," Arthur elaborating, nearly sighing in relief as he stopped in front of the door, "You probably just looked into 208a. Our test is taking place in b."

Just as Arthur was about to turn the doorknob, Alfred stopped him, grasping at the other boy's shoulder. "Hey, Arti – Arthur," He corrected himself, looking at the other boy in concern, "Are you…okay?"

Arthur pulled back indignantly, a small spark livening up his dull eyes. "Of course I am," He snapped resentfully, "I'm perfectly fine."

"You just look really sick. But not like normal sick, like _stress_ sick," Alfred reasoned, hoping that he was making some sort of sense, "And ya know, this is kind of a huge test that comes with a lot of pressure, and since we haven't really been studying together lately –"

"I'm _fine_ ," Arthur spat out, interrupting him with a fierce glare, "And don't you dare insinuate for a _second_ that I'm somehow 'suffering' without you there to help me, because I can reassure you right now that I have _never_ needed you, and that I most certainly don't need you right now."

Alfred simply stood there, frozen into place, as Arthur gripped the handle of the door and tugged, striding into the testing room where the rest of their class waited. He could feel tears beginning to prick at his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away, rubbing the back of his hand against his eyes. He should have known that he would get that kind of response from him, but he still had to try – he couldn't stop himself from making sure that the other boy was alright. It was almost an involuntary response, like blinking or breathing, and it had seemed to flow so naturally from his tongue.

Alfred forced himself to stop that train of thought right then and there. He didn't have time for such sentimental feelings – he had a test to take. He re-opened the door that had slammed shut only a few seconds ago, entering the room and skillfully avoiding Arthur's eyes. Luckily for him, it wasn't too difficult considering that the other boy was attempting to do the same exact thing.

He shoved himself down into a chair, placing his calculator and a few pencils (the only things that he had brought with him) down onto the desk. There was a woman standing at the front of the room, some teacher that he didn't know, and she gave him a polite smile as he entered, nodding her head towards him in acknowledgement.

Alfred had thought that he'd nearly been late, but apparently they still had a few minutes left before it was set to start. His classmates were milling about the room, trying to waste time before they had to sit down to nearly four hours of testing. Suddenly, a hand was shoved in front of his face, delicately painted nails curling around something that he couldn't entirely see.

"Would you like a piece of gum?" Katyusha asked, a gentle smile placed onto her face, "I've heard that it helps you to concentrate during tests."

Alfred stared at her for a moment, taken aback, but quickly allowed a grin to burst onto his face. "Yeah, thanks!" He exclaimed, greatly appreciating the offering, "This is really cool of you!"

Katyusha blushed, beaming right back at him. "It's nothing, but you're welcome," She giggled, "I brought enough for everybody. I'm just hoping that it helps our little family to do well. Good luck!"

Alfred gave a small wave to her as she departed back to her desk, a strange smile on his face as he tried to decipher what she meant by _little family_. Was she referring to their chemistry class? Before he could question it, however, his attention was caught by something else entirely.

"What the –" He blurted out, staring completely dumbfounded at the boy on his left, "Antonio, how many pencils do you _need?_ "

Antonio grinned at him, shrugging as Alfred stared. "Better safe than sorry, right?" He reasoned, smile still plastered onto his face. In his hand was a gallon-sized plastic bag filled up at least halfway with number two pencils, each of them sticking out in different directions. It was one of the oddest sights that he had ever seen, and it seemed especially funny with all of the pressure that he was under. That was how it usually was on testing days – things that he'd usually consider strange were suddenly hilarious to him. Last year he'd nearly cracked up laughing in the middle of an exam because one of the primary sources had read, 'Sorry this isn't typed. They stole my typewriter.'

Alfred went to respond to Antonio, but before he could the woman running the test began speaking. He turned his attention to the front of the classroom, the smile immediately wiping from his face as he heard the traditional 'test introduction speech' (this test will be 3 hours 45 minutes, number two pencil only, color inside the bubbles, etc.). He steeled himself, gripping the pencil in his hand, and prepared himself for battle.

* * *

When the teacher called time on the first section of the exam and announced that they'd be having a break, the class shuffled out of the room completely exhausted. It was almost like they were waking up, going from staring at the crisp white test book to the dimly lit hallway. They all stretched themselves out, giving halfhearted smiles to each other as they practically dragged themselves towards the bathrooms.

Alfred found himself at the back of the group of students, having wanted to help the teacher clean up the plastic wrap that littered the room before he went on his 'official' break time. By the time he got there, most of the class was just lingering outside, biding their time before they had to go back into the room, and he gave them a thumbs up as he walked past.

The minute he walked into the bathroom, he allowed a bright grin to find its way onto his face, his mouth opening as he silently shouted in victory, bringing one hand up to fist pump in the air. The test so far certainly hadn't been easy, far from it, but he had still felt as if he'd stood his ground. He could almost feel it in his bones – the work he'd done so far would garner him at least a 4 out of the 5-point scale, and while that wouldn't usually excite him, it felt like a huge step in the right direction. His answers may not have been right, but he had chosen them with confidence, and at that moment that was all that really mattered to him.

He was so caught up in his miniature victory celebration that he almost didn't notice the slight hiccupping sound coming from slightly further into the bathroom. He cautiously lowered his hand, creeping forward towards the area where the stalls were. As he got closer and closer, it became clear that the noise was coming from the stall at the very end, the only one that was shut and locked. It was completely unmistakable – somebody was crying in there.

He tried to run through the list of people who he'd seen in the hallway, to try and rule out who it might be, but in his heart he already knew who it was. He edged forward slightly, the soft sobs sending a pang running through his chest. Something was so, so, very wrong with Arthur, and he almost instinctually moved himself towards the stall, wanting more than anything to comfort him.

Alfred felt a sharp stab in his soul as he realized that he was probably the cause of all this – if he hadn't gotten them into this whole mess, he would have been able to make sure that Arthur had been totally prepared for this exam, that he knew each and every topic inside and out. As it was, however, he had abandoned him to his own devices, leaving him overstressed and, as he gathered from hearing the wracking sobs coming from the stall, completely hopeless. This was all his fault, and he needed to do something about it.

Alfred steeled his jaw, determinately lifting a fist upwards, preparing to knock on the door – and then let it fall, his hand uncurling as it dropped to his side. Arthur was hurt, yes, and certainly needed somebody – but that person probably wasn't the boy that had caused him all of this grief in the first place. He pulled himself back away from the door, trying to make as little noise as possible as he escaped out of the bathroom and into the hall.

 _After all,_ He thought to himself as he trodded back towards the room, _it's none of my business anyways._

* * *

 **Dammit, Alfred, you drama queen, just comfort the boy!**

 **Please tell me that somebody else remembers (and/or cracked up laughing) at the typewriter thing, because I nearly interrupted the entire test by snorting right in the middle of the DBQ.**

 **So that was the AP exam, which means that we've got less than a month before school gets out! I don't know exactly how many chapters that's going to entail, but after we finish off that month there's just going to by the July chapter and then the epilogue. I can't believe we're almost finished with this!**

 **Thank you all so much for reading/favoriting/following/reviewing! All of that really does mean the world to mean, and I am so, so,** _ **so,**_ **grateful for each and every one of you!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	32. Hurricane Gilbert

"So if we get the black ones it'll be cheaper, but the colored ones just look so much more awesome," Gilbert reasoned, shoving a handful of french fries into his mouth. Alfred leaned back into his chair, shrugging as he tried to discreetly play a game on his phone under the table. While he typically enjoyed having food days in chemistry, something about today's seemed so _boring_ to him. He couldn't even entirely enjoy the McDonald's that their teacher had picked up for them, the restless feeling stirring in his veins.

"Yeah, that's true," Alfred mumbled out, throwing his head backwards to stare at the ceiling. It wasn't anyone's fault necessarily – they had rushed to learn all of the topics before they took the AP exam, leaving them with practically nothing to do afterwards. Mr. Brewer insisted that they had to 'remain vigilant' (whatever that was supposed to mean) in order for them to perform well on the finals, but none of the class actually listened. It was almost as if their minds were already on summer vacation, all of them remaining in their classroom only in body. Everybody had completely checked out – except, of course, Gilbert, who was persistent in his drive to get them all T-shirts.

"The worst part is that there are only eight of us, nine if Brewer buys one," Gilbert complained, crossing his arms in indignation, "So the store won't let us get a group discount. Which I think is a load of bull – I mean, that's nine more t-shirts than they'd be getting in the first place, right?"

Alfred nodded distractedly, trying and failing to sympathize with him. He wasn't entirely sure what drove Gilbert to push so hard for them to buy their own special 'AP Chem 2k15' shirts, but he didn't really understand the appeal. After all, it wasn't as if there was much to celebrate. Not for him, at least. So much had happened to him during the span of this class, both good and bad, that he wasn't even certain that he _wanted_ to be reminded of it all.

"But anyway, he said that they should cost around –" Gilbert jolted to a stop in the middle of his sentence as Elizaveta stormed into the room, slamming an eight-pack of Coke down onto the table and shoving herself into the seat next to Alfred. As they stared, she moodily snapped one of the cans out of plastic that contained it and popped the tab, beginning to guzzle it down.

"Uh, Elizaveta?" Gilbert asked cautiously, as if speaking to a wild animal, "What's up with you?"

She leveled him with a fierce glare and he backed away, quickly hurrying back over to the other side of the classroom where his lab partner Antonio was waiting. As soon as he was gone she emptied the last of the pop out of the can, chucking it into the trash can beside them and reaching forward to grab another. Alfred simply sat there awkwardly, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do and unable to go anywhere else.

After a few moments of silence, he bit his lip, warily leaning forward and whispering, "Are you okay?"

At first he thought that she was about to bite his head off, her head whipping around swiftly to stare at him. However, instead of the glower she had given Gilbert, her entire face seemed to fall and her eyes began to water. Alfred sat there, completely frozen, as she leaned forward and began to openly sob into his shoulder.

"I just said that I'd thought it was a bad idea," She whimpered, gripping onto his shirt for dear life, "I mean, long distance is bad enough normally, but I'm going off to _college_ and he doesn't really have any friends other than me…"

She trailed off into a hiccup and Alfred reached forward, awkwardly patting her back in what he hoped was a soothing manner. He opened his mouth to say something comforting, but she interrupted him, continuing to bawl right in his ear.

"But then the _bastard_ insinuated that I didn't love him anymore," She gritted out, pulling away from his shoulder in order to clench her fists, the glare looking odd on her tear-stained face, "And then he blatantly said that he thought I was cheating on him!"

"Right," Alfred responded, nodding his head as if he actually knew what was going on. He was relatively sure that she was talking about her boyfriend (Rod-something, he thought his name was), but other than that he was entirely lost.

"So I just decided," She continued, taking a swig of the Coke can in front of her, " _Fuck_ him, _fuck_ his assumptions, and _fuck_ the fact that he wouldn't let me drink anything but Pepsi because of his dad's stupid job!"

"Yeah!" Alfred exclaimed, trying to be as supportive as possible without actually understanding what in the world that meant, "Although maybe you should keep those swear words to a minimum, we _are_ at school –"

Elizaveta leveled him with a glare and he backed off, holding his hands defensively in front of him. "Or not!" He replied, trying to placate her once again, "You totally don't have to do that if you don't want to!"

She lifted the can to her lips once again, and Alfred let out a small, nervous laugh. "Yeah, he sounds like a real jerk though," He agreed, "It's probably good that you dumped him in the first place."

Elizaveta sighed, leaning forward onto the table with a half-frown on her face. "If only all guys were like you, Alfred," She muttered, "It's too bad that you're already taken. I'm pretty sure that there's a million and one people who'd go for you in a heartbeat."

Alfred scrunched up his nose in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean you're a cool dude," She reasoned, "Not that I'd actually date you, though. You're not exactly my type."

"No, not that," He bit his lip, partially relieved that his friend didn't see him that way but still puzzled over what she had said, "What do you mean, it's too bad I'm already taken?"

Now it was Elizaveta's turn to be perplexed, her eyebrows furrowing as she stared straight back at him. "You're dating Arthur," She stated as if it was the most obvious fact in the world.

Alfred's eyebrows widened in surprise. "Oh, wow," He breathed out, "I can't believe that Gilbert didn't tell you. I guess I just assumed that he'd told everyone the minute I mentioned it."

"Mentioned what?" Elizaveta asked hurriedly, intensely interested in what he was going to say, "What did he not tell me?"

Alfred lowered his voice, leaning in so that he wouldn't be heard. "Arthur broke up with me a while ago," He whispered, proud that he managed to keep his voice from cracking, "I think it's been a couple months now."

"What?" Elizaveta exclaimed, quieting down as Alfred shot her a look, "Sorry. I just… _what_?"

Alfred shrugged, and she sat back into her chair, looking as if that was the last thing she had ever expected to come out of his mouth. "That's insane," She blurted out, "You two were always so good together, I never even thought that you might have broken up."

"Yeah," Alfred stated bluntly, unsure of how he was meant to respond to that. Elizaveta shook her head, staring up at the ceiling before bringing her gaze back down to look at him.

"I mean, I never would have guessed," She marveled, "You must have a will of iron, because I didn't notice _anything_ that would make me think that you guys were done."

Alfred shifted around in his seat a bit, uncomfortable. "Well, that's not exactly true," He admitted, squirming around as he tried to avoid her gaze, "I did kind of skip school for three days."

"Oh," She stated, before her eyes seemed to widen in realization, " _Oh._ I remember that now – and right after prom, too. That must have been really rough for you."

Alfred merely shrugged, and they both stared off into space for a moment, distracted by their troubling thoughts. After a few seconds had passed, Elizaveta looked at him, sympathy in her eyes. "Do you want a Coke?"

"Yeah," Alfred decided, his face twisting into an awkward little frown, "Thanks, Liz."

"No problem," She replied, ripping one of the cans out of the packaging and sliding it over towards him. Just as he was about to open it, however, there was a loud commotion being made on the other side of the room, causing both Alfred and Elizaveta to look over in curiosity.

Antonio and Gilbert were laughing loudly, trying to push each other towards the chemistry lab and falling all over each other, acting vaguely ridiculous in general. After a moment, they both managed to exit the room, their giggles echoing through the concrete hall. Alfred stared after them, confused, looking around the room to see if their teacher was anywhere near (he wasn't, of course – he had told them that he was going to his office to grade papers while they enjoyed their party).

Alfred bit his lip, debating with himself for a moment. It really probably wasn't any of his business what they were doing – and anyways, he could get in a lot of trouble if somebody found out that he was leaving right in the middle of class to go who knows where. On the other hand, however, the conversation that he was stuck in at the moment wasn't going to lead him towards anything but bad memories, and Antonio and Gilbert seemed as if they were going to go do something _really_ fun.

In one swift motion, Alfred pulled himself out of his chair. "Hey, Liz," He murmured distractedly, "I'm gonna go check out what they're doing. You know, to make sure that it's not anything super bad or anything."

He didn't even leave Elizaveta time to respond, immediately skirting himself around tables in order to get to the chemistry lab. Nobody even noticed him leaving, his footsteps so quick and quiet that it was almost as if he hadn't left the room at all (or at least, that was what he liked to think – the truth was that one pair of eyes had most certainly noticed him).

As he rounded the corner to the room, he could hear those giggles starting up again, and he hurried himself towards the sound. He peeked into where they were standing, both of them hunched over something, their backs facing towards him.

"So I figured this out last time we were in here," Gilbert whispered, moving his hands around something that Alfred couldn't see, "And I'm completely serious, this is the coolest thing you will ever see in your entire life."

That statement piqued Alfred's interest, and he entered the room a bit more, still trying to keep himself hidden for reasons that even _he_ couldn't discern. Antonio lifted his head up, eyes widening. "Oh yeah?" He replied, leaning forward, "It sounds awesome. But are you sure we need one that big? It's almost as long as my arm."

"Of course we need one this big," Gilbert replied, acting as if it was completely obvious, "It's not as fun otherwise."

At this, Alfred simply couldn't help himself anymore. What were they going to do that could possibly require something that large? Not that he knew what _that_ was anyway, but when it came to Gilbert it was sure to be good. _Maybe they're going to blow something up,_ Alfred thought, nearly licking his lips in anticipation of the kind of excitement that would bring.

"Hey, guys," He interrupted them, stepping fully into the room, "What are you doing? Can I join in?"

Gilbert flashed him a mischievous grin, turning slightly towards him. "The more the merrier," He reasoned with a smirk, "Come check this out."

Alfred hurried forward, an excitable smile on his face, squeezing in between the two of them. Sitting on the desk in front of them was a giant Erlenmeyer flask, one that could hold over 5 liters, filled ¾ of the way full with a mysterious clear liquid. "What is it?" He asked, feeling enthusiasm bubbling in his chest. He was a little disappointed that 'big' thing was just a flask, but that didn't mean that they weren't about to do something incredibly exciting.

"Water," Gilbert replied, shooting him a grin as he dropped a small, pill-like object into the flask along with a few drops of a deep green liquid out of a miniature bottle that he held in his hand. Alfred could feel his face fall just a bit, but he still kept his hope – there were plenty of interesting things in chemistry that required water.

"Oh," He replied, leaning in to view the green liquid that was swirling around in the water, "And what's that? Some kind of indicator or something?" He had never heard of a pH indicator that turned green in water, but that didn't mean that one didn't exist.

"Nah," Gilbert stated, shrugging his shoulders, "That's just food coloring."

Alfred was beginning to feel a sinking feeling in his stomach that he had skipped out on class for nothing. "Well what's –"

"A magnet," Gilbert filled in, anticipating what he was about to say with a grin, "Just watch and learn."

Alfred remained silent as requested, Gilbert putting the finishing touches on whatever it was he was doing. After a moment, he placed the entire flask on a small black box, sent the both of them a quick smirk, and then turned the knob of the box with a _click_.

There was immediately a high-pitched whirring seeming to emanate from the box, and after a few seconds the magnet began to spin, slowly picking up speed until it was nothing but a blur at the bottom of the flask. The water began to spiral around it, the food coloring quickly mixing in and making the entire thing seem to glow a dark, deep green. Once everything had gotten up to the same pace as the magnet, creating a miniature tornado in the flask, Gilbert turned to them with a look of pride.

"Behold," He stated, "Hurricane Gilbert!"

Alfred simply stared at him for a moment in disbelief before he burst into laughter, tears nearly springing to his eyes. After all of his expectations of something giant and uproarious – something that would have the cops burst in on them like they did last October – this tiny little spiral in a flask of water had caught him off guard. It was so strange, so simple, and yet so _AP chemistry_ that he couldn't stop himself from laughing.

"Dude," He giggled out, voice completely genuine as he threw both of his arms around them, "This is totally awesome!"

"I know, right?" Gilbert laughed out, Alfred's own good mood seeming to infect him as well as Antonio. They all shared a look, bright grins appearing on their faces, and began to completely crack up laughing, clutching at their stomachs. It was silly and ridiculous, but when it was them he didn't think he minded it so much. They had created a small family there in that class, and somehow that was enough to make it all okay, even the things that he thought he'd never get over.

He was so busy laughing that he never even noticed a set of green eyes peering around the corner, watching him as he played around, and leaving before he could even see them.

* * *

 **AP Chemistry means family. Seriously – when you spend so long suffering with such a small group of people, you really do get close.**

 **This was the chapter that I** _ **originally**_ **meant to be before the AP exam, but somehow it got pushed back to here. It also ended up about a thousand words longer than it was supposed to, but that's not really something I can do anything about. Elizaveta and Gilbert need their spotlights (who's the drama queen now, Alfred?)**

 **Happy Labor Day everybody! I mean, it's not technically a holiday (not even in America, where it's an actual holiday), but still, it's something vaguely celebratory and I hope that you're having a good one!**

 **Thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following! It means so much to me that I can't even explain it, and you're all the absolute sweetest for doing it!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	33. Still Into You

Alfred thought that it was strange, walking into Chemistry class without knowing what they would be doing that day, and yet for the past week he had done nothing _but_ that. Because of some weird scheduling error made by the school administration, the seniors were going to be completely out of school during the last couple of weeks. Usually, this wouldn't affect the juniors, but for classes like AP Chemistry (where there were both juniors and seniors), this meant that they had to take their finals about two weeks in advance.

The AP Chem final had been nerve-wracking, everyone rushing to study for an exam that they'd thought they had plenty of time to review for. In the end, however, it turned out that they hadn't needed to worry – not only were they allowed to use their notes and do test corrections, but the teacher also curved the entire exam after they had finished. Alfred didn't think that anyone in the class had gotten below a B-, and for Chemistry that was saying something. Of course, he was a little angry at Mr. Brewer for letting them suffer without knowing all of that, but he couldn't blame him too much. After all, he had given him two stress-free weeks at the end of the school year, complete with the knowledge that he had just achieved an A in one of the most difficult classes of all time (he almost wanted to hang the grade on his wall).

Regardless of how well he had done on the exam, he tried to avoid thinking of it. For one, the final itself didn't hold too many good memories (about halfway through he realized that he had completely forgotten to study the bond angles). And for two – well, whenever he started to think about the final, his thoughts always inevitably drifted to _Arthur_. There was a part of him – _just a small part_ , he tried to reassure himself – that was worried about how the other boy had done on the test. He couldn't have done too badly, he knew that for a fact, but he also knew Arthur. If he had gotten anything less than an A, he would be absolutely crushed. Alfred couldn't help but worry about him.

 _But it's none of my business_ , Alfred thought to himself as he passed through the door into the empty chemistry classroom, trying to force the idea into his head. Not only was Arthur's affairs none of his business, but neither was Arthur himself. Nothing that he did was of any concern to Alfred anymore, and he tried to tell himself that that was just fine. It didn't matter if he didn't need to think about that kind of stuff, because he didn't _care_ about Arthur, and so whatever he did had nothing to do with him.

Alfred shoved his things down onto the table, spreading them out across the entire surface. With all of the seniors gone, the room felt almost emptier than it usually was, even though they were only missing three people. He hadn't even had the chance to say goodbye to them – Gilbert, Elizaveta, and Katyusha were gone almost immediately after he'd found out that they were leaving.

Alfred sighed and leaned back into his chair, closing his eyes as he tilted his head back towards the ceiling. The lights in the classroom weren't even on – he hadn't bothered to flip the switch when he'd walked in, wanting to just sit in the dark for a while without the burden of his thoughts. After a few minutes, he could hear footsteps padding into the room, pausing near the doorway.

"Is he…asleep?" Arthur asked, his voice hesitant. Alfred couldn't even see him, but he could imagine the look on his face, confused and uncertain – the thought of it almost made him laugh. Another rustling sound was heard near the door, and then another voice joined in.

"It seems like it," Francis replied, his voice a half-whisper in the quiet room, "I'm not surprised. He's been through a lot in the past few months. You both have."

Arthur scoffed, the harsh sound seeming as if it was raking up his throat. "Don't start, Francis," He replied, annoyance clouding his voice, "We've been through this conversation enough to last a lifetime."

"It's not healthy to keep your feelings bottled in like this, _cher_ ," Francis replied, tone laced with worry, "You'll wear yourself down."

The conversation was too soft, too familiar for Alfred's liking. It almost seemed as if they were _dating_ , or at least that they felt some sort of warm feelings towards one another. That thought didn't sit well with him, but then he reminded himself that he didn't care about Arthur's relationships or even whatever it was that Arthur was 'bottling up'. This wasn't any of his business, and he wasn't interested in their conversation – he was just feigning sleep because it would be too awkward to get up now, was all.

He could hear Arthur sigh, and then there was another few moments of shuffling as (he assumed) they sat down into their chairs. "It's just…been very rough for me," Arthur admitted, his voice almost too quiet for Alfred to hear, "When I broke up with him, I was so _adamant_ that I didn't need him and had never needed him, and to some extent that was true. I'd gone my whole life without knowing him, but –"

Arthur's voice broke off for a moment, hitching in the silence, and Alfred realized with a jolt that they were talking about _him_. He knew that he shouldn't be listening, but at this point it was too late to stop. He shut his eyes tighter, hoping that something would come along to get him out of this situation so that he wouldn't have to hear the rest.

"I felt so betrayed, I can't even begin to convey how it felt," Arthur continued, a slight quivering in his words, "I had told him that I loved him for the first time, Francis, just the night before, and then I found out that he had already _known_ because he'd read my _journal_. It felt as if my heart was breaking – and the worst part was, some part of me wondered what was so wrong with me that the man I loved would willingly do something like that."

Alfred felt guilt, something that had been so unfamiliar to him as of late, twinge in his stomach. He had nearly forgotten how it felt to know that he was the cause of Arthur's suffering, that the reason that his voice was so wobbly at the moment was because of _him._ He pulled his eyes shut even tighter, reminding himself that he didn't care – he didn't love Arthur anymore anyways, so why should any of this matter to him?

"And it did hurt – I can hardly remember how long and hard I cried that night," Arthur continued, his voice shaking, "But I should have sucked up my damn pride, because, as it turned out, I really _did_ need him. When we studied together, I actually think that I was beginning to understand the material a bit, but the minute he was gone it all went downhill. It was so awful, Francis, I didn't know what to do with myself. Every test, I felt so ill that I couldn't stand it –I just didn't understand anything that was on the page, it was as if I was reading a different language. And the AP exam was the worst of all. I just sat down, and it was as if I suddenly couldn't breathe. I was absolutely terrified, and as soon as we were given our break I went straight to the bathroom and started sobbing. I couldn't help it."

For a few seconds, a shuffling sound filled the room, and then there was nothing once again. Alfred simply sat there, feeling a singular tear slip down his cheek. He wanted so desperately to help him, to fix all of the problems that he had ever faced, but it was much too late for any of that. _If I had known, I would have–_ Alfred cut off that thought, stopping it in its tracks. He would have done what? Gone up to him, comforted him, insisted that they study together? There was no way that Arthur would ever admit any of this to him and, even if he had, he never would have agreed to it. After the way Alfred had treated him, he would be surprised if he would even let him get the whole sentence out.

"I'm sorry, _cher_ ," Francis whispered, his voice carrying across the room, "But you know, none of this is your fault."

Alfred agreed wholeheartedly with this, but there was something about the way he said it – it was too gentle, too soothing, to be coming from Francis's mouth. He wanted to reach over and pull him away from Arthur, to tell him that he could take over from there. _But it's none of your business_ , he reminded himself, and bit his lip to stop another tear from slipping down his face.

Arthur let out a bitter laugh, his tone quivering in the quiet of the classroom. "I wish that I could say it was his," He admitted, his voice softer than it had been the whole conversation, "But I simply can't blame him. Despite everything, I still love the bloody prat."

Even with tears streaming slowly and steadily down his face, he could still feel his chest irrevocably warming, the shards of his heart seeming to piece back together just at the sound of those words. Though they weren't even addressed to him, it had been so long since he had heard them that he couldn't help himself. Even just the sound made him want to break into a sob and rush over to kiss him both at the same time.

He couldn't deny it anymore. He had tried so hard to tell himself that he didn't care, that he couldn't possibly feel anything towards the other boy after all that they'd been through, but he couldn't help it. It wasn't just any person – it was _Arthur_ , perfect, amazing, impossibly wonderful _Arthur_ , and he didn't think that there was anything in the world that could make him truly fall out of love with him.

 _I'm still in love with Arthur,_ He thought to himself, and the idea made his heart swell and break all at once.

All of a sudden, the lights came on, and he had to force himself to keep his eyes shut. The rest of the class came shuffling in, Lili and Antonio laughing as they headed towards their seats. He almost crossed his fingers that they wouldn't notice the tear tracks running down his face in the newly lighted room, but he got lucky – nobody seemed to notice him fake-sleeping in the chair. Once he was sure that he was safe, he rolled out of the chair in the most languid way possible, flopping onto the ground and immediately shoving himself upright.

"What?" He asked, hoping that his voice sounded groggy enough to convince them that he had just woken up, "What's going on?"

His question was met only with laughter, and he breathed out with a smile, trying to hide the turmoil inside his mind behind a grin. He spared a quick glance towards Arthur, partially wanting to see if he was alright and partially wanting to simply see his face at that moment, but he was facing the other way. Alfred bit his lip, ducking his head down to stare at the table as the teacher walked in to announce what they would be doing that day.

* * *

After class, Alfred packed up his things slowly and carefully, staying in the lab longer than almost everyone else. They hadn't really done much, most of the class being spent simply cleaning up various items that were lying haphazardly around the lab, but he had somehow managed to get all of his things strewn across the lab table anyways. It was quiet in the lab, almost comforting even, as he stood alone beside one of the granite tables.

He sighed, the sound echoing through the empty room. There hadn't been much time for reflecting upon his revelation, and yet he had spent most of the class doing so anyway. He wished that he could just go up to Arthur and tell him how he felt, but he knew that it could never be that simple. Arthur may still love him, but that by no means guaranteed that the other boy even wanted to talk to him, let alone get back together. Besides, even though it hadn't been on purpose, he had eavesdropped on Arthur. What kind of person would he be if he simply told Arthur his feelings and expecting everything to be the same as it was before?

Suddenly, footsteps began to echo through the lab, and he glanced up as that sweater-clad teen walked into the room. _Speak of the devil_ , He thought, giving Arthur a weak smile as he strode into the room.

There was a pause as Arthur noticed him, their gazes locking with one another. Alfred didn't think he could ever get over just how green those eyes always were, no matter what. They were like forests, or emeralds, or some other third thing that was more beautiful than either of those (English had never been his strong suit – that had always been Arthur's forte).

After a moment, Arthur turned his eyes away, pretending as if he hadn't even seen him as he walked over to retrieve the lab book that he had forgotten on one of the cold granite tables. It didn't take long, Arthur purposefully hurrying so that he could get out of the awkward situation. He turned around to leave, and as he reached the doorway Alfred felt such a strong _tug_ in his chest that he immediately had to call out to him.

"Arthur!" He exclaimed, "Wait!"

Arthur paused in his tracks, neither moving nor turning around. It wasn't an ideal situation, but he had stopped, and that was all that Alfred really needed. "I – I know you're not gonna say anything to me," He stuttered out, "And you don't have to. Just…just listen for a second."

Alfred breathed out, waiting to see if Arthur would do anything. He didn't move, and Alfred knew that was as good of a go-ahead as he was going to get. "Look, I know that I did some pretty awful stuff to you," He reasoned, "And I know that I wasn't there when I should have been, and that there's a lot of things that I've done wrong during the time that I've known you."

He paused for a few seconds, trying to calm his racing heartbeat. "And I'm not going to try to excuse any of that or tell you that you should forgive me," He insisted, trying to keep his voice steady, "Because I know that's not how any of this works."

Alfred looked up to the ceiling for a moment, attempting to maintain his confidence. "I just want you to know that none of this is your fault," He stated, his eyes starting to water, "And that none of it meant – _means_ – that I love you any less."

He could hear Arthur's sharp intake of breath at that statement, but the other boy remained facing away from him, keeping Alfred from seeing anything but the tensing of the muscles in his back. "And, well –" He broke himself off for a moment, voice dropping to nothing but a whisper, "For what it's worth, I really am sorry."

With that, Alfred gathered up his things and left, not bothering to check behind him as he walked out of the door.

* * *

 **I'm starting to get the feeling that these chapters are just getting written to procrastinate the ending, because this isn't what this was chapter was supposed to be** _ **at all.**_ **They were just meant to be working with acetylene, darn it!**

 **So Alfred has finally stopped being in horrible, horrible denial over his feelings, as well as actually apologized for what he did wrong, and Arthur is admitting that he actually needs him. Our little nerds are growing up so fast! Unfortunately, that means that including the epilogue, I'd estimate we've got maybe three or four chapters left to go. I can't believe we're getting so close to the end (even though I've been saying that for maybe ten chapters now)!**

 **Thank you all so much for the support you've given this fic! It means so much to me that all of you take the time to read/review/favorite/follow, and I really am serious when I say that you're all the sweetest people on the planet!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	34. Free Verse

Alfred leaned back into his chair, heaving out an exhausted sigh. He'd never thought that he'd actually be _glad_ to be in AP Chemistry, but somehow that fifth period slot had become the most relaxing time of his day. Though a few of his mixed-grade classes had taken their finals early, that hadn't stopped the rest of his teachers from giving him two ultra-stressful days of testing in a row right at the end of the year. It was almost amazing that, on the last day of the school year, he found himself looking forward to the class for the first time in a while.

Mr. Brewer had told them that he had planned something special for the last day, a final hurrah to their days of AP Chem. Alfred was happy enough to see the class itself go, but there was still some part of him that never really wanted it to end. Their small, close-knit group had seemed almost like a family to him, and it was a little jarring knowing that this would be the last time that they would be able to interact like this. He pushed those sorts of thoughts far from his mind, however – it wasn't in his nature to worry about the pains of the future when he could be living the good stuff now.

Alfred was pulled from his reverie as the door was nudged open a little wider than he had left it, the wood begrudgingly sliding across the carpeted floor. He glanced up to see Arthur, holding his stack of books in one hand (why he didn't just carry a pencil on finals days, Alfred would never know) and a small plastic tub, struggling to hold everything as he made his way into the classroom.

Alfred couldn't help himself – even though he knew that Arthur would most likely get angry at him, his hero instincts wouldn't let him just sit by and watch as he tried in vain to keep everything together. In one swift movement, he deftly pulled himself out of his chair and walked towards the door, quickly grabbing the books out of Arthur's hands and setting them on the table, preparing himself for the inevitable glare that he was about to receive.

When he looked back up, however, there was a small smile on Arthur's face, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in what was an unmistakably grateful expression. Alfred could feel his mouth almost hang open from the shock. He hadn't said anything to him, sure, but that smile was nothing short of an acknowledgement, something that Alfred had been sure he'd never get from Arthur again. And, to top it all off, that smile was genuine – it wasn't a smirk or something equally as sarcastic, but a _real_ smile, the likes of which he hadn't seen since the night of prom. He could feel his heart lifting just at the sight of it.

Deciding to push his luck, Alfred leaned forward, trying to peek into the tub that he was holding. "What are you carrying around in there?" He asked, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

Arthur stared at him for a moment in surprise before looking down at the tub himself. "Oh – these?" He questioned, "They're biscuits. I make them every year for my teachers as a thank you gift. Would you like one?"

For a second, all that Alfred could do was simply look at him, shock coursing through his system. Of course, it was only polite for him to respond, but that didn't mean that he had been expecting him to. After all, they had only talked once since they'd broken up, and that was only a few exchanged words, not a real conversation. Eventually, he pulled himself out of his trance, realizing that it must seem pretty strange for him to just be standing there. "Biscuits?" He blurted out, scrunching his nose up and hoping that Arthur hadn't noticed his oddly long pause, "Like the stuff that you put gravy on?"

"Wh- no, you prat!" Arthur exclaimed, his eyebrows furrowing into what Alfred thought was a cute little scowl, "They're a _dessert._ You'd call them cookies, even though that would be a very _wrong_ description of them."

"Oh, okay," Alfred replied, feeling his heart lift, warmth settling in his chest. He almost couldn't believe what was happening – he had almost forgotten how they had acted before, when they hadn't had all of the tension between them that they had now. "In that case, then I totally want one."

Arthur pulled open the lid, revealing rows upon rows of thin, circular cookies. Alfred reached forward eagerly to take one, not missing the slightly hopeful glance that Arthur shot him as he raised it up towards his mouth. He took a bite, his teeth sinking harshly into the crisp surface, and he felt his eyes widen.

"This is great!" Alfred exclaimed, shoving the rest of the cookie into his mouth, "Seriously, this tastes so amazing. Can I have another one?" They were disgusting. He could barely force himself to keep chewing, but the look on Arthur's face was worth it.

The other looked so shocked and surprised that his eyes were nearly watering, a pleasant blush filling up his face. "W-well, I do need to make sure that I have enough for all of my teachers," Arthur stuttered out, unable to keep a gentle smile off of his face, "But I'm sure that it should be fine if you just take one more."

Alfred did take another, completely against any and all sense of self-preservation that he carried within himself. He shoved it into his mouth as quickly as he could, hoping that it would help to mask the taste, and reaped the rewards as he saw Arthur bite his lip to conceal his happiness, flushing up to his ears. He hadn't even realized how much he had missed the sight of that blush.

Alfred leaned forward, about to respond, when the rest of the class made their way into the room, each of them milling about in the middle of the room before they had to sit down for what little class they were going to have. He didn't mind too awfully, though – that five seconds of conversation had held more for him than the entirety of the past three months.

After a few moments, Mr. Brewer walked in, an unconcealed grin on his face as he sat himself behind the desk at the front of the classroom. Each of them turned towards him, eager to know what exactly he had planned for the day. "Class," He announced, gesturing towards the five students that occupied the room, "Let's head to the lab. There's a lot of work we need to do in a short amount of time. We're going to need two groups, and since it's the last day you might as well decide them for yourselves."

Before Alfred could even begin to think about opening his mouth, Francis had already begun to speak. "Well, seeing as there are only five of us, there should be one group of two and one of three," He reasoned, turning to his right to face the people that he'd walked in with, "Antonio, Lili, would you like to work together?"

The two nodded their heads, and before he knew it he was standing, moving towards the lab door with the realization that he had just been forced to spend the entire class period with Arthur. Of course, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, especially because Arthur had apparently decided that he was speaking to him again. He felt a swelling in his chest at the thought – it would be a whole lab of just him and Arthur, just like things used to be.

As he passed through the door, he felt a hand lay on his shoulder, and he turned slightly to see Francis with a sly grin on his face. "Consider this an 'I'm sorry' for ruining your relationship," He half-whispered in the darkened space between the class and the lab, "You're not a bad man, Alfred. You've just made many stupid mistakes. Of course, if you ever hurt him again I'll have to retract that statement, but for now – well, good luck."

Francis let go of him, making his way towards the lab with a smirk, and Alfred stared after him with an expression akin to amazement. _Did Francis just give me his blessing?_ He thought with a little laugh, the ridiculousness of the situation getting to him. Despite it all, he still felt a swell of pride in his chest. It wasn't every day that somebody told you that their opinion of you had changed for the better.

As he stood there staring after Francis, Arthur came up beside him, a strange look on his face. "Alfred?" He questioned, the tone sounding so sweet to Alfred's ears, "Is everything…alright?"

"Huh?" Alfred returned, facing Arthur with eyes wide, "Oh, yeah, totally. Actually, everything is pretty great. Like really, _really_ , awesome."

"I'm glad to hear it," Arthur murmured, a grin on his face as he headed into the lab, notebook tucked gently under his arm. For a moment Alfred wondered why he was even taking his lab book with him if it was the last day of school – and then he suddenly realized that it wasn't his lab book at all, but the small, dilapidated notebook that had gotten them into this whole mess. He could feel himself paling, eyes widening as he looked at the object that had caused both of them so much trouble.

After a few seconds, Arthur noticed his stare, following it to the notebook that he held in his hand. He locked his gaze with Alfred's, seeming as if he was about to say something before the teacher cut in, interrupting the conversation that seemed to be imminent. "So when I was cleaning out the chemical storage room this weekend, I found some leftover luminol," He announced, voice laced with enthusiasm, "Which, if you don't know, is the stuff they use in crime shows that glows when there's blood."

An excited murmur passed through the students, and Mr. Brewer's grin grew wider. "Your job is to google what you need to activate the luminol – save for the hydrogen peroxide of course, that's the final ingredient. All of the chemicals you need should be in the storage room. I'm going to try and set up a funnel device, so when you're done just come and get me."

Alfred would have laughed at the autonomy their teacher was giving them if Arthur wasn't still looking at him as if he had something that he needed to say. "I'll find what we need," Alfred blurted out, pulling his phone from his pocket frantically.

Arthur breathed out, a small smile lighting on his face. "I wrote you a poem," He said languidly, tapping one finger on the top of the notebook, "Of course, I've written you lots of poems, but this one is different. Would you like to read it?"

Alfred stared at him as if he were crazy. "No," He stated, "Not really."

"Are you sure?" He asked, voice sounding almost pleading, "Because I wrote it specifically for you."

"Yeah, I'm sure," He returned, heart pounding in his chest, "Anyways, we're going to need sodium carbonate, copper sulfate, and ammonium carbonate. I think I know where those should be, but things always get put into such weird places, I'm never really sure where anything is."

"Don't avoid the subject," Arthur scolded, following him as he headed towards the storage room.

"Don't avoid what subject?" Alfred asked, peeking around the old wooden shelves at the various chemicals to try and find what he needed, "I'm doing exactly what we're supposed to be doing right now. You know, getting ingredients to activate the luminol."

"Oh, come off it," Arthur complained, finally shoving the book towards him in his frustration, "Just read the bloody page."

"Arthur," Alfred breathed out, voice solemn, "I'm not going to touch that thing."

"And why not?" Arthur gritted his teeth, forcing him back against the shelf, "It's just a notebook, Alfred."

"Hey – watch it!" Alfred exclaimed as he almost elbowed a few bottles of chemicals off of the shelf, "And it's not just a notebook. It's the notebook that – and well – I'm just not going to touch it, okay?"

Arthur's face softened as he seemed to realize that the reason that he didn't want to read the book was because that book represented something that he didn't want to go back to. "I understand, Alfred," He reasoned, his voice a half-whisper, "But if you could just read this page –"

"Dude, no," Alfred responded, pulling a few bottles off of one of the shelves and cradling them in his arms.

Arthur clenched his fists, his jaw setting in frustration. "Just read it, you prat!" He shouted, his voice echoing through the small room and he ripped the page out of the notebook and shoved it into Alfred's free hand, face as red as a beet, "I swear, you're the most unreasonable and obstinate people that I've ever had the misfortune of meeting!"

Against his better judgment, Alfred unfolded the crumpled up paper, holding it up above him slightly so that he could read it in the dim light of the storage room. Through the wrinkles and the lines, he could see three words written in that crisp, clean handwriting: _I forgive you._

Alfred could feel his heart soar, warmth rearing in his chest as the read over the words again and again. He had known that Arthur still loved him – he had heard that and plenty of other things about the other boy's feelings the other day – but this was something else entirely. Even after all the stupid, idiotic things that he had done, everything that had transpired between them, Arthur actually _forgave_ him, and at that moment those words seemed better than a thousand _'I love you'_ s.

"You sure have a way with words," He laughed out, his eyes sparkling as he stared at Arthur's furiously blushing form.

"S-shut up, you git," Arthur scolded him, trying to be stern but unable to keep a tiny smile from working its way onto his face.

Alfred grinned in response, gathering up the bottles he needed and shoving them into an empty box lying off to the side. "Come on, Artie," He beamed, "Let's go do this experiment."

* * *

 **This chapter is being split in two because it is two in the morning and they haven't even** _ **started**_ **their final experiment. These sentimental nerds will be the death of me.**

 **So Arthur finally forgave Alfred, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they're back together yet – if at all. They've still got quite a while to go before they can have a real, healthy relationship.**

 **I don't even know why I keep bothering to estimate how many chapters there are left, because every time I think I've got the right number I just end up adding another one (case in point: this entire chapter). Either way, though, it's coming up here at some point.**

 **Really, thank you all so much for supporting this fic! All of your views/reviews/favorites/follows keep me writing this thing – and I take all of your suggestions to heart, too (you guys have some really great ideas sometimes – I hope you don't mind me stealing them!). Honestly, you're all the sweetest readers an author could ask for!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	35. School's Out For Summer

Alfred grabbed two of the larger flasks and thrust them forward, unable to keep a grin off of his face. "What do you think?" He asked, waving them slightly in the air, "Will these be big enough or not?"

Arthur raised one eyebrow critically, as if trying to compensate for the blush that was still staining his cheeks. "Alfred, those would probably be large enough to hold an entire gallon," He responded, crossing his arms, "I'm sure that it will provide ample room. Besides, we only really need one."

"Actually, we do need two," Alfred corrected him, trying his best not to tease the other boy (and risk him taking back his forgiveness), "One's for the actual luminol and the rest of that stuff, and the other one is what we put the hydrogen peroxide in. Then we combine them and science happens!"

Alfred's face split into a beaming smile as he placed the flasks down upon the countertop, whirling around to face the other boy. Arthur simply stared at him for a moment, almost dumbfounded, before he broke out into a flush, the tips of his ears turning a bright, brilliant red. He turned, flustered, and began to busy himself with the bottles sitting on the countertop, moving them around and staring at them intently.

"What?" Alfred asked with concern on his face, wondering if he had done something wrong, "What happened? Did I say something bad?"

This question only served to make Arthur blush even harder, trying his hardest not to look at Alfred as he mumbled out, "No, nothing bad."

"Something good then?" Alfred asked, grinning as Arthur didn't respond. He skirted around the granite countertop, coming face to face with the other boy, and leaned forward so that he could meet his eyes.

"Oh, I get it, Artie," Alfred laughed out, hoping that he wouldn't be crossing the line with the joke he was about to make, "You're just blushing because I'm a bond between fluorine, iodine, and neon."

"What?" Arthur questioned, confusion lighting up on his face as he tried to reason out what Alfred had just said, "I don't understand how that –"

"You think that I'm _FINe_ ," Alfred interrupted, a sly grin on his face as he spit out the punch line. Arthur began sputtering, what little normality that had returned to his face quickly flushing once more, and Alfred could only laugh.

"I-I'll have you know that I was thinking no such thing!" Arthur stuttered out, forcing a glare onto his face as he pretended to examine the chemicals once more.

"Right, of course not," Alfred reasoned, snarky smile still firmly on his face as he grasped one of the bottles himself, "Arthur Kirkland would never think those kinds of thoughts. No, clearly you were thinking that I'm copper and tellurium."

He let Arthur think the pun through this time, watching as his face got steadily redder and redder as he realized exactly what Alfred had just insinuated (he didn't think it was even physically possible for one person to blush that much, but Arthur had certainly proved him wrong). He waited a few moments for him to respond, but as the silence dragged on Alfred's face lit up in realization.

"Wait," He paused, unable to keep the corners of his lips from tugging upward, "Is that _actually_ why you started blushing? You turned red all of a sudden just because you think that I'm _cute?_ "

Arthur glared at his general vicinity, trying his hardest to avoid eye contact. "S-shut up, git!" He stuttered out, "It's not _my_ fault that you're so adorable!"

Alfred burst out laughing, a small reddish tint dusting his face as well. He was almost amazed at how easy it had been to slip back into their routine of half-arguing, half-flirting. It was as if not a single thing had changed since the day they broke up, their conversations just as exhilarating to him as they had always been in the past. He knew that things were different now though – both for better and for worse.

Even though things seemed alright between them, even though he had asked Arthur's forgiveness and Arthur had given it to him, there was still this odd space between them. He wished that he could lie to himself, wished that he could say that they could just pick up where they'd left off, but he knew that it wasn't the case. If he wanted to restart their relationship (and he did – sometimes more than he wanted air), they'd need to talk about what had happened. They couldn't simply act as if everything was fine, and they couldn't pretend that they were the exact same people that they had been all those months ago.

 _But maybe_ , Alfred thought as he stared at the boy across from him, _that's not necessarily a bad thing._ They had changed, of course, that didn't mean that they were suddenly incompatible. Alfred knew that he loved him, so much that it hurt sometimes, but he also knew that the way he had acted was selfish and cruel. There was no way that they could have stayed together with him so stubborn and Arthur so unforgiving – it never would have worked. _Maybe this way, we actually have a chance,_ Alfred thought, and he could feel something warm rising in his chest.

"S-stop staring at me!" Arthur exclaimed, pulling him out of his reverie as he flushed under Alfred's unintentional gaze. He pulled back quickly, an apologetic smile on his face, and held his hands up in a gesture of peace.

"Sorry, dude," He laughed out, blushing as he realized that he must have been accidentally fixated on the other boy for quite a while, "Guess I kinda zoned out there for a while!"

"It's fine," Arthur mumbled out, face absolutely on fire. They stood there for a moment, a sheepish grin curling onto Alfred's face, before he suddenly reached forward and grabbed the tub that all of the chemicals had been sitting in, startling Arthur.

"We should really get to work on this," Alfred reasoned, walking slowly backwards towards the balance room, "We can split the work load – you prepare the hydrogen peroxide solution, and I'll get the luminol one. That sound good to you?"

"Yes, that's fine," Arthur hesitantly agreed, an almost mournful look on his face as Alfred moved further away from him, "Just try to hurry, will you?"

Arthur stood there for a second, completely oblivious, before seeming to realize exactly what he'd just said. "N-not that I would miss you or anything!" He stuttered out, "That would be absolutely ridiculous, considering you're only going to be gone for a few minutes at most."

Alfred grinned, giving him a small wave as he turned around. "Don't worry," He laughed, winking at the flustered boy, "This'll be the quickest weighing job you've ever seen!"

With that he walked through the glass doors to the balance room, almost missing Arthur's call of, "Make sure you're still accurate, git!" He laughed to himself as he placed the tub onto the counter, knowing that it was Arthur's way of saying that he appreciated it (it was also his way of saying _be accurate_ , but Alfred chose to ignore that interpretation).

He tugged a few of the weighing boats out of the stack, placing one onto the metal plate of the balance and waiting for it to zero out. With one swift movement, he reached over to the tub and pulled out the ammonium carbonate, sliding the lid off and laying it onto the countertop. As he stared down into the container, however, he began to cough, his eyes watering as he was suddenly assaulted with fumes.

 _How long has this thing been in here?_ He wondered, holding his breath as he leaned back down to scoop up some of the substance. It was absolutely acrid, the smell quickly filling up the relatively small balance room. He cracked a small grin, leaning out of the door and shouting, "Hey, Arthur, I'm going to die in here!"

There was a few seconds of pause before a dry voice shot back, "No you're not."

Alfred breathed out a laugh, immediately regretting it as he inhaled the fumes, the sharpness of the smell making him sputter a bit. He hurriedly returned to the balance, tapping the power into the weighing boat without paying too much attention to detail. It was better for him to get out of there as quick as possible than to spend forever making sure that everything was perfect. _Besides,_ He reasoned to himself, _this is a qualitative experiment anyway, so it doesn't matter if I'm a little off._

Once he finished weighing everything, he dumped it all into the flask that he had brought with him, hastily making his way out of the ammonia-infested balance room. As he approached Arthur, he let out a sigh of relief. "I didn't know anything could possibly smell _that bad_ ," Alfred complained, crossing his arms on the countertop and leaning his face down onto them. Arthur only laughed in response.

"You know that you only have yourself to blame," He grinned, a small magnet stirring around the solution that he had made, "You volunteered for the job, after all."

Alfred breathed out a small laugh. "If I'd have known, I would have made you do it," He mumbled, giggling as Arthur playfully smacked him on the arm.

"Oh, come off it," He rolled his eyes, reaching forward towards Alfred's flask, "Here, let me see that. I've already measured out a liter of distilled water, so I can pour it for you if you'd like."

"Thanks!" Alfred exclaimed brightly, Arthur shyly returning his smile. He had almost forgotten how nice it was to work with him. It wasn't the same as when he worked with Elizaveta – then it had been all business, the both of them knowing exactly what to do and how to do it, neither of them needing to rely on the other. With Arthur, it was almost as if they were baking cookies together rather than doing chemical experiments. Their actions may have been slow and inaccurate, but that wasn't what mattered – what mattered was the fact that they had been able to do it together.

Alfred watched as the magnet whirred in the bottom of the flask, the yellowish solution sloshing around inside. As he opened his mouth to say something, however, a head peaked around the wall, Francis gesturing for them to come back into the chemistry room. Arthur raised an eyebrow in confusion and Alfred merely shrugged, just as out of the loop as he was. He grabbed both of the flasks and headed towards the room, stepping cautiously so as not to spill anything.

"What's going on, guys?" He asked as he entered the room, Arthur following behind him as he nudged the door open with his foot. The rest of the underclassmen sat gathered around the lab table at the front of the room, grinning at them as Alfred gingerly laid the flasks down onto its surface.

"We're going to activate the luminol," Lili answered, a small smile tugging at her lips, "Mr. Brewer set up a special device just for us."

Alfred and Arthur shared a look before they both turned towards the three other students, confusion in their eyes. This time it was Antonio who laughed, moving out of the way as he gestured towards the contraption, asking, "Isn't this thing amazing?"

Alfred stared at the device (if it could even be called that) sitting on the countertop. Its base was a simple ring stand, upon which were three or four of the clamps that they would typically use for titrations. However, wound all around it was a long, clear plastic tube, one end with a funnel stuck inside of it and the other going into the sink. It was one of the strangest things he had ever seen in AP Chemistry, and that was saying something.

"Are we going to dump this stuff in there?" Alfred asked, gesturing towards their Erlenmeyer flasks. The rest of them nodded, and Alfred turned to Arthur with a beaming grin on his face. "This is going to be totally awesome."

Arthur let out a small giggle, a fond smile appearing on his face as their gazes met. "Would you like to go first or second?" He asked, leaning against the countertop.

"Definitely second," He answered confidently, "You gotta save the last for best, ya know?"

Arthur rolled his eyes but complied anyway, walking over to turn off the lights as the other group prepared to dump their solutions into the funnel. Mr. Brewer dumped their flasks into beakers so that he could pour them easily, Francis reaching up to hold the device steady.

"Everyone ready?" Arthur asked, his hand on the light switch. When they all nodded their heads, he flicked it to the off position, the entire room being engulfed in darkness. After a few moments, a bright blue glow appeared, swirling around in a zig-zag pattern as the teacher poured the two solutions together. The entire class seemed to gasp, involuntarily amazed at how oddly beautiful it was.

Unfortunately, the glow couldn't have lasted more than ten seconds at most, and soon the lights were back on, Mr. Brewer beginning to clean out the tube for the other group's solutions. Alfred walked over this time, pulling the tube out of the sink in order to run some water and clean up the remaining liquid. The other group had used bleach, not the random chemicals that they'd used, and it would have been bad if some of those ingredients happened to react in some way.

Once they'd finished cleaning up, Alfred took Francis's place holding the funnel, the other boy giving him a grin as he moved to sit back down. Once again, Arthur asked if everyone was ready, and after they had all nodded their consent, he flipped the switch. He could barely see anything, but he could feel the lips of the beakers bumping into the funnel as the liquid poured into it.

The blue started to light up right in front of his face, seeming somehow much brighter than the last. He could see even the tiniest droplets of liquid as they hurried down the tube, the sight absolutely fascinating to him. _This really is absolutely beautiful_ , He thought, utterly entranced by the glow.

After a few seconds, however, Antonio's voice called out from the opposite side of the room. "Hey, guys?" He asked, voice sounding a little anxious, "Where is this stuff going?"

It was then that Alfred felt the liquid running onto his arm, splattering across the counter and the carpet as it spurted out of the tube. Hurriedly, he stepped back from the funnel, reaching over towards the end and quickly shoving it into the sink as Arthur turned the lights on in a panic.

"Alfred!" He exclaimed, rushing over to the other boy who stood stock-still, arm dripping with the solution, "Oh dear lord, are you all right?"

Alfred started to respond, but Arthur cut him off before he could even open his mouth, worry evident in his eyes. "What am I saying, of course you're not all right, you're covered in this stuff!" He breathed out, biting his lip as he began to tug Alfred towards the lab, "You need to get cleaned off right now, or else – who knows what could happen!"

Alfred didn't know how to reply, and so he simply kept quiet as Arthur dragged him to one of the chemistry lab's sinks, following him without complaint. As soon as they stood beside one, Arthur pulled over a stool, shoved him into it, and began to vigorously inspect his arm, wetting a paper towel and rubbing it over his skin.

The other boy seemed intent on his task, not bothering to look up as he wiped the liquid away, continuing to scrub at his arm even after it was all gone. Alfred, too shell-shocked at how sudden it had all been, didn't come to his senses until his skin was red and irritated from the paper towel.

"Arthur," He gently pleaded, watching as he continued to look down at his arm, "It's alright, I'm fine now. You don't have to keep doing that."

"You don't know that," Arthur responded gruffly, pushing a little harder at his skin, "It isn't as if you're a doctor. You could be seriously injured and have no idea about it."

"Yeah, that's true," Alfred conceded, nodding his head a bit as he brought his hand up to capture Arthur's, "Except I'm not hurt, so everything is fine."

Arthur finally looked up at this, his red-rimmed eyes locking with Alfred's as he stared at him in disbelief. "You had chemicals _poured_ down your arm." He stated bluntly.

"They weren't even that toxic!" Alfred defended, "And besides, it isn't as if this kind of thing hasn't happened to me before."

"You – you're so _stupid_ , you know that?" Arthur exclaimed, angrily pulling away from him, "It's your own fault that you got put in this kind of danger! You're the one who left the tube out of the sink, so w-why should I care if you get hurt!"

Arthur was shaking at this point, trembling with emotion, and Alfred did the only thing he could think of – he wrapped his arms around him. He pulled him close to his chest, feeling the tremors die down as the shorter boy rested his head against him. After a few moments, he gingerly returned the gesture, his arms locking around the small of Alfred's back.

"It's alright, Artie," He assured him, raising one hand to card his fingers through his hair, "I'm fine. There's nothing to worry about, I'm not hurt at all."

Arthur almost unconsciously held him tighter, leaning into his embrace. "I – I was just so _scared_ , Alfred," He whispered out, "I honestly thought that something awful had happened, and I was so worried that you'd been hurt, I just –"

"I know," He returned, "It's okay."

Arthur sighed, burying his head a little further into Alfred's chest. "I know that it must seem silly," He admitted, "But I can't help it. B-because, well…I lo –"

"You don't have to explain anything to me," Alfred replied, pulling him away so that he could look him in the eye, "Just the simple fact that you feel that way makes it valid. I don't think it's silly at all."

Arthur stared at him, a contemplative expression on his face. "You –" He started, cutting himself off before trying to begin again, "You've really grown up since then, haven't you?"

Alfred let out a small puff of air, a tiny smile curling onto his face. "Anything for you, babe." He half-joked, watching Arthur's eyes widen at the statement.

Suddenly, the bell rang, and the two looked at each other in shock. Alfred had almost totally forgotten that they were in school, and with a sheepish grin he pulled away from the other boy entirely, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand. "Wow, guess we kind of lost track of the time there, huh?" He asked, starting to make his way back towards the chemistry classroom.

"Yes, I suppose that we did," Arthur replied distractedly, following his as he moved. Neither of them spoke during their small journey, both of them completely lost in their own thoughts. As they entered the classroom, Alfred barely even acknowledged that the lights were off, choosing instead to reach for the small amount of things that he'd brought with him. It was only when Arthur spoke again that he was pulled out of his miniature reverie.

"Alfred," He asked hesitantly, "How much, exactly, of those chemicals did you put into the solution?"

Alfred shrugged, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. "I dunno," He replied, "I think some of them were four grams and some were five."

"Four grams?" Arthur exclaimed in disbelief, "Alfred, the experiment called for _point four_ , not four. Do you know how big of a difference that is?"

"Oh, well, it isn't as if it really affected anything," Alfred responded, "Why do you ask?"

"Alfred, we were in the lab for about twenty minutes," Arthur stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, and?" He asked, wondering where this was going.

Arthur stared at him in incredulity. "The floor is still glowing blue," He pointed out, looking towards the front of the classroom.

True to his word, there was a large blue stain on the carpet right where he had been standing, still glowing blue twenty minutes after it had been spilled. Alfred couldn't help but let out a laugh at the ridiculousness of the whole situation. It seemed like the perfect ending to his entire AP Chemistry class – after everything that had happened, all the good and the bad that he'd gone through in that room, it was almost fitting that he would leave his mark on it.

"That's pretty crazy, isn't it?" He replied, one corner of his mouth lifting up as he began to move towards the doorway. He stared at Arthur with a fond look, giving him a small wave, "Have a good summer, Artie! See ya next year!"

Just as he was beginning to walk out of the door, a thought occurred to him – there was no guarantee that he _would_ see Arthur next year. After all, they'd apparently been going to school together for who knows how long, and yet neither of them had ever seen the other before. If they'd never been in a class together in all the time prior, why would he think that they'd have one again their senior year? _What if this is the last time I'll ever see him?_ He wondered, a sense of dread filling him.

Suddenly, he turned around, determination set on his face. "Hey, Arthur," He began, startling the other boy, "Would you want to maybe…hang out? Over the summer?"

Arthur stared at him for a moment before a smile, bright and hopeful, broke onto his face. "Yes," He replied, a warm look in his eyes as he gazed up at him, "Yes, I think I'd like that."

 **I'd like to informally name this chapter 'Dammit, Alfred'. Because** _ **dammit,**_ **Alfred.**

 **Also, just a disclaimer here, but don't put luminol on your limbs if you ever happen to randomly find luminol for some reason. Like most things in chemistry, it looks pretty cool but you shouldn't touch it because it will** _ **probably**_ **kill you. Maybe.**

 **This chapter has a big enough word count that I could split it into two, but considering I** _ **already**_ **split this chapter in half, I figured that'd be a bad idea (plus, this one isn't as splittable as the last). After this, all we have left is the last chapter and then the epilogue. Unless, of course, the last chapter gets split in two, which I wouldn't completely put past myself. It's like writing procrastination. (Did you know that we're over 80k now? This thing is getting insane).**

 **Thank you all so much for the support you've given this! I love each and every single one of you for reading, reviewing, favoriting, and following this little story! It means so much to me, really, and I think you're all the sweetest people an author could ever know!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	36. At Your Beck and Call

"Mattie," Alfred complained, shoving his face frustratedly into his hands, "I really need your help right now."

"With what?" Matthew questioned, looking up from the book he'd been reading to stare at his brother, who was lying haphazardly over the couch. It had been a little over a month since they'd gotten out of school, and most of that time had been spent in this exact same position: one of them on the couch and one of them in the armchair. This wasn't an uncommon setup for the twins during the summer, but Alfred thought that the vacation couldn't be more different from how it used to be.

From the very moment that they'd gotten home on the last day of school, he'd been trying to work up the nerve to call Arthur. He wanted nothing more than to talk with the other boy, to spend time with him, but he couldn't help himself – he was nervous. Every time he thought about having a conversation with him, his mind quickly supplied him with all the ways that it could possibly go wrong. So he decided to wait a few hours – and then those few hours turned into days, and weeks, and pretty soon it was July 6th and he still hadn't picked up the phone.

Alfred threw his phone toward Matthew, the small device landing on his lap. "Call Arthur for me," He whined, leaning down into a pillow, "It's super important."

Matthew rolled his eyes, throwing the phone back and smirking as it whacked him in the head. "Call him yourself, Al," He replied, pulling the book back up to his face, "It's not my job to fix your relationship issues."

Alfred half-sat up, glaring at his brother. "I don't have any relationship issues," He corrected, picking the phone up from where it had landed on the floor, "I don't have a _relationship_. That's the whole problem here!"

"Oh, come on, don't be so stupid," Matthew mumbled from behind his novel, not bothering to look up, "You and Arthur might be 'broken up', but we all know that you're basically still together."

"Matt, I don't think you understand what 'broken up' actually means. Unless Arthur says so explicitly, I don't have any right to him," Alfred retorted, crossing his arms as he sat up fully, "And what do you mean by _we_?"

Matthew smirked, raising an eyebrow at his brother. "Al, everyone knows about you two," He explained, letting his book fall back down onto his lap, "You're practically perfect for each other."

"Clearly not perfect _enough_ , considering I can't even work up the nerve to call him," Alfred pouted, playing with the phone in his hands as he sighed, "I really miss him, ya know? I mean, it's technically only been like a month since I've seen him, but it feels like it's been forever."

"So just call him," Matthew suggested, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Alfred leaned his head back against the couch, running his hands through his hair as he bit his lip in frustration. "It's not that _simple_ , Mattie!" Alfred exclaimed, "You keep talking like it's this super easy thing, but it's not!"

"And why isn't it?" Matthew asked, crossing his arms as he stared his brother down.

"Because it isn't!" Alfred replied, practically shouting in his irritation, "It's not like I'm going to pick up the phone and have a casual talk – this is a big thing! It _means_ something!"

"What does it mean?" Matthew prompted, a knowing smile on his face, "Because you know, to me it sounds like you're just scared."

Alfred stared at him for a moment, almost dumbstruck. "No, I'm not – it isn't –" He stuttered out before lowering his head in resignation, "I love him, Matt, and right I'm pretty sure that this is my last chance to make everything right between us. I don't wanna mess it up."

Matthew sighed, making his way over to the couch and shoving himself down beside his brother. "You're making this way harder than it has to be, Al," He assured him, resting his palm on his twin's shoulder, "Arthur isn't going to pick up the phone and give you an ultimatum – it really is just a phone call."

"But what if I do something wrong?" He asked, his lip quivering ever so slightly, "I have this awful feeling that I'm going to screw over everything I've worked for. Or –"

Alfred cut himself off, looking away from his brother with an expression almost akin to shame. Matthew stared at him, eyebrows furrowing as he leaned towards his twin. "Or what?" He pressed.

"It's really stupid," Alfred admitted, giving a small self-depreciating smile, "Especially because I want it so much. But the truth is that I'm kind of afraid that everything will go fine, we'll get back together, and –"

He broke off again, pausing for a moment to swallow the lump in his throat. "And then," He whispered, "It'll turn out that I'm still not good enough for him, that we still don't work together, even after everything has changed."

Matthew scoffed, and Alfred whipped his head around to face him, a hurt look on his face. "Alfred, look," He began, crossing his arms, "Regardless of whatever issues you two have, you still work well together. Yes, you lied to him. Yes, he wouldn't forgive you. And yeah, you've both grown up from that. But in the end, you'll always come back together. You've got the kind of personalities that just click, like puzzle pieces."

Alfred bit his lip, and Matthew heaved a little sigh. "Alfred, I've never seen you happier than you are when you're with Arthur," He explained, voice soft, "And that's saying something. You worked together then, you work together now, and you'll work together twenty years from now. Everything else is up to you."

Alfred simply sat there, shocked into silence, as Matthew pushed himself off of the couch and made his way towards the door. As he reached the frame, he turned around, leveling one last look at his brother. "Call him," He insisted, before disappearing into the hallway.

Alfred stared at his phone, contemplating what Matthew had said. Of course, he didn't doubt for a moment that fact that he and Arthur had been happy together – and the fact that, if given the chance, they certainly could be again. Was happiness enough, however, to get past the problems that they had?

 _We've changed,_ Alfred thought to himself, _Both of us. That's got to mean something, right?_

But there was no guarantee that Arthur would feel the same way. Just because he loved him, just because he _forgave_ him, didn't mean that he wanted to be with him again. Alfred had done something awful, after all, and he couldn't just assume that a little change made him good enough for the other boy. Besides, even if he _did_ call him, there was always the possibility that he would mess everything up without even trying.

If he didn't try, however, how could he know? There was a million different ways that that conversation could go, but he would never find out if he didn't at least attempt it.

He stared at the blank screen of his phone for a moment before gritting his teeth, decisively clutching it in his hand. _I'm the hero, dammit!_ He thought, _And I'm not going to avoid calling the boy I love just because I'm afraid of being rejected!_

With a determined nod, he typed in Arthur's number, quickly pulling the phone up to his ear as he waited for it to begin ringing. In the split second between, he suddenly began to regret doing this at all, wondering if he had made the right decision, but by then it was already too late – Arthur had picked up after only one ring.

"Hello?" He greeted, voice breathless as if he had ran to answer the phone. Alfred nearly froze at the sound of his voice, that familiar accent making his heart race. He'd almost forgotten how wonderful it was to listen to him speak.

"Uh," He began, almost cursing himself for stammering, "Hey, Arthur!"

"Hey," Arthur replied, the smile in his voice nearly visible even through the phone. Alfred felt his own lips curling upward in response, unconsciously forming a grin at the thought.

"I, uh," He stuttered out, suddenly realizing that he had gotten so caught up in worrying about whether or not to call, that he had completely forgotten to think of something to actually talk _about_.

"How's it going?" He asked, nearly smacking himself in the face with how dumb he sounded. Out of everything that he could have said, he chose _how's it going?_ He might as well have asked about the weather.

"Good. Brilliant, actually," Arthur admitted, barely able to conceal the excitement in his voice, "I'm actually really glad that you called."

"Y-you are?" Alfred questioned, simultaneously surprised and overjoyed as he clutched his phone even tighter, "Why is that?"

"Oh, no reason," Arthur replied, letting out a small laugh (and _oh_ , was his laugh beautiful), "I'm just happy to be able to talk to you."

"Yeah," Alfred sighed, a dreamy smile on his face, "I – I'm happy that I can talk to you too."

Arthur laughed again, his voice carefree as he giggled on the other side of the line. "Well, yes, I would assume so," He reasoned, tone light, "Considering that you're the one who called me."

"Oh, right!" Alfred burst out, as if suddenly remembering that he had yet to come up for an excuse as to why he had called the other boy. He searched around the room almost desperately, trying to find something that he could use as justification. After a moment, his eyes alighted on the newspaper, lying forlorn on the end table, and he felt his face split into a grin. "I was just wondering – are you free today?"

There was a pause, a moment in which neither of them spoke, and Alfred thought that he could almost hear Arthur's heart beating through the silence. "Yes," Arthur breathed out, sounding almost exhilaratedly happy, "I believe that I am."

"Awesome!" Alfred exclaimed, picking up the newspaper and studying the article on the front page, beaming all the while, "Because, you know, today's the last day of the 4-H fair, so if you wanted to go with me –"

"I would love to!" Arthur burst out, leaving Alfred a little startled before he began to backpedal a bit, "I mean, if it's the last day, I might as well go. Not because I want to go with _you_ , specifically. I'm just – I'm very interested in farming culture, that's all."

"Farming culture," Alfred repeated, a smirk on his face as he leaned back onto the couch, nearly crushing the cat that had somehow snuck up behind him during the course of their conversation. He absentmindedly reached over to pet him, barely concealing a laugh as he waited for Arthur's response.

"Yes, farming culture," Arthur reiterated, sounding almost offended at his statement, "It's an absolutely fascinating lifestyle."

"Right," Alfred sarcastically agreed, rubbing his hand across the fur of his cat, "And what lifestyle would that be again?"

"W-well," Arthur stuttered out, suddenly caught in his lie, "You know, shucking corn and that sort of thing."

"Artie," Alfred laughed out, unable to keep the grin off of his face, "You've never been to a 4-H fair, have you?"

There was a pause, and then Arthur muttered out, "No, I haven't actually been to a 4-H fair. B-but I _am_ from England, so it would be stupid for me to have any knowledge of your ridiculous American rituals anyway!"

"You've told me plenty of times that you've been here long enough to know how things work," Alfred mentioned with a smirk before his eyes widened in excitement, "But this is actually really great! Because if you've never been to one before, that means that I get to show you your first American fair!"

"Y-yes, well," Arthur stammered, smile plain in his voice, "It doesn't sound _completely_ awful."

"Great!" Alfred exclaimed, exhilarated about how _easy_ this all seemed in retrospect, "How about I meet you at two o'clock, by the swingsets?"

"That sounds lovely," Arthur responded, voice suddenly soft and sweet, "I'll see you then. Goodbye."

"Bye, Artie," Alfred returned, ending the call with a _click_ and setting it down onto the couch beside him. A small, warm smile alighted on his face, and he turned to Paw Revere with a heart as light as air, grasping him and pulling him into his lap.

 _Maybe Mattie's right after all,_ He thought, and the notion made him beam with happiness.

* * *

 **It turns out that Matthew was the biggest USUK shipper this whole time. Who knew?**

 **I can't believe that I've actually done this again, and yet here we are. This entire chapter was supposed to happen in maybe 300 words, but somehow it ended up taking up this entire space. I'd like to say that this means that there's still just the last chapter and the epilogue to go, but I can't guarantee that this isn't going to end up being a 3-part kind of thing. Oh, the joys of being a writer.**

 **Thank you all so much for the support you've given this fic! I love each and every one of you for reading/reviewing/favoriting/following this thing! You all really are what keeps me writing, and you're all the absolute sweetest people for doing what you do! Thank you!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	37. My Fair Lady

"So," Arthur began as Alfred approached the swingsets, hands thrust into his pockets, "Hello."

"Hey," Alfred grinned, unable to stop the bright smile from appearing on his face, "You look great!"

Arthur blushed, mumbling out a few words in dissent, but that didn't stop the words from being any less true. Part of him was simply glad to see the other boy, not having seen him for so long after having spent almost every day together. The other part of him, well – he couldn't deny that Arthur was exceedingly attractive. Of course, he'd been attractive when they were in class together, but this was something different altogether.

Summer had been good to Arthur. His hair was a slightly lighter shade, the messiness of it complimenting his face, and his skin, though still as pale as it had always been, seemed to glow in the light. The clothes he wore were casual, the simple jeans and t-shirt looking odd (but not unflattering) on the usually formal boy. And then, of course, were his eyes – their emerald green shined so beautifully in the summer sun.

"S-shut up," Arthur eventually sputtered out, the glare he was sporting contrasting the redness of his face, "Anyways, what do you have planned?"

"Planned?" Alfred asked, jolting out of his daze, "What do you mean?"

"What are we going to do?" Arthur asked, raising one eyebrow, "You must have invited me here for a reason other than just _showing_ it to me. So what were you planning on us doing?"

"Uh," Alfred looked around, casting his eyes across the fair in the hopes that something would jump out at him, "I, um…"

Arthur crossed his arms, a smirk firmly planted on his face, and Alfred hung his head in shame. "Alright, you got me," He admitted, "I didn't really think this whole thing through. But trust me, there's plenty of stuff here to do!"

"Oh yes, I'm sure that there is," Arthur replied, one side of his mouth tugging upwards even further as he began to walk away from the swingsets, "You just don't know any."

Alfred let out an indignant huff as he hurried to catch up with Arthur, running across the uneven grass. "I do too!" He pouted, crossing his arms, "But I don't know what there is to do there that _you_ would like."

Arthur stopped abruptly, turning to face him with a strange look on his face. "Alfred," He began, furrowing his eyebrows, "I didn't come to a fair with you to do things that I enjoy doing. I came because I wanted to see the things that _you_ enjoy. Isn't that the point of you taking me to my first American fair?"

"Oh," Alfred breathed out, a small blush forming on his face at Arthur's bluntness, "Um, well, I guess that we could always buy some fried Oreos. I always like doing that."

Arthur scrunched up his nose, following Alfred as he took off towards the pavement. "Fried Oreos?" He questioned, letting out a small laugh, "What on earth is a fried Oreo? Honestly, it sounds like some ridiculously greasy American thing."

Alfred turned to face him as he neared the food area of the fair, shooting him a grin. "That is _exactly_ what it is." He confirmed, walking up to the counter and leaving Arthur standing almost dumbstruck in the grass. After a few short moments he returned, carrying two small boxes. He handed one to Arthur, who stared at the oblong shapes inside with a look that resembled contempt.

"Alfred, you cannot be serious," He deadpanned, poking at one and cringing when his finger came out covered in chocolate and powdered sugar, "This is a heart attack waiting to happen."

"Of course it is," Alfred mumbled out through a mouthful of food, Arthur rolling his eyes at the sight, "That's the fun of it. Don't worry though, I only get them once a year, so it's not like I'm going to die from it."

Arthur looked almost scandalized, crossing his arms as he sat his box down on a picnic table. "I wasn't worried about you," He denied, "It's just an unhealthy thing in general, regardless if you or anyone else eats it."

"Actually, come to think of it," Alfred continued, pensively licking his fingers, "This is actually my second time eating them this year."

Arthur glanced up from where he had been staring at the Oreos, eyes flickering in interest. "Why is that?" He asked raising one eyebrow.

"Me and Mattie came down to the fair two days ago for my birthday," He replied as he threw his empty box into the trash, having practically inhaled the greasy food, "And we got some then. Well, _I_ got some then. Matt only comes for the elephant ears."

Arthur froze, blanching as he stared at Alfred in shock. "Your birthday?" He murmured, watching as Alfred turned towards him nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I was born on the fourth. Pretty crazy, right?" He laughed out, shoving himself down onto the picnic table, "It's kind of awesome though, having fireworks on your birthday every year."

"Your birthday was two days ago," Arthur repeated, his face pale, "And you never told me."

Alfred stared at him, watching as the other boy's face grew slowly redder by the moment. "It never came up." He reasoned.

"Alfred," Arthur bit out, eyes beginning to water as he stared, "We dated for who knows _how_ long, and you never thought to tell me when your birthday was?"

Alfred shrugged, hoping that the motion would calm the other boy down. "You never asked." He replied, crossing his arms guiltily.

"It's your birthday," Arthur retorted indignantly, "I shouldn't have to ask."

"It's not even that big of a deal," Alfred pleaded, reaching his arms forward as if to embrace the other boy, "Come on, Artie, just drop it. We're here to have fun, aren't we?"

Arthur shook his head in anger, biting his lip. "You're impossible," He snapped, and within seconds he was gone, storming off across the grass.

"Shit," Alfred muttered to himself, slapping a hand against his forehead as he began to follow after him. Arthur was quick, however, and within seconds he was almost fifty feet away. Alfred felt that familiar feeling of guilt rising in his chest. He couldn't believe that he had messed things up that quickly – it had been less than five minutes, and he'd already ruined whatever chance they might have had once more.

He hadn't seen exactly where Arthur had gone, the other boy having disappeared around a corner, but he continued to search anyway, picking up his pace a bit. He _knew_ that this would happen, and yet he had gone ahead and asked him to hang out. _I should have just left well enough alone_ , Alfred thought, eyes welling up with tears, _We might not have been together, but at least he didn't hate me._

Alfred ducked around a building, leaning back against the wall and wiping his eyes with the back of one hand. He wished that he could go back in time six months, to where he and Arthur had been rolling in the snow and laughing, happy and in love. But it was summer now, and there was nothing left for him but to accept the fact that he had ruined everything they could have had between them. Alfred slid down to the ground, covering his face with his hands.

Alfred waited there alone for a few minutes, not moving from the position he was in, before he heard the sound of footsteps rounding the corner. He quickly stood up, wiping his hands on his jeans and hoping that his eyes were dryer than they felt as he came face-to-face with Arthur. The other boy stared at him, an apprehensive look on his face as he held his hands behind his back.

"There you are," Arthur breathed out, squinting in the summer sun, "I've been looking all over for you."

"Hey," Alfred replied, coughing a bit in an attempt to hide the shakiness of his voice, "I thought that you left, so I just kind of…came here."

Arthur scrunched up his nose, staring at the other boy in confusion. "Why would I have left the fair? We just got here."

"I –" Alfred stammered out, staring at the ground in order to hide his guilty expression, "I thought that you were angry at me."

"Oh, I was. I am," Arthur corrected himself, furrowing his eyebrows, "You were a right prat for not telling me it was your birthday – honestly, it's vital information. But I wouldn't just _leave_ because of that one little detail. What kind of drama queen do you think I am?"

Alfred blushed, his face heating up with embarrassment before he scrunched his nose up in confusion. "Wait," He began, running one hand through his sun-kissed hair, "If you weren't leaving the fair, then where did you go?"

At this, Arthur's face flushed as well, his eyes widening before he turned away, refusing to meet Alfred's gaze. "Ah, yes, well," He stumbled over his words, biting at his lip, hands still held firmly behind his back, "It's not very good, and not nearly as thoughtful as I'd like it to be considering that _somebody_ didn't tell me until it was too late, but – well, here."

Suddenly, an object was thrust into Alfred's chest, and he stared down to find a small teddy bear resting in Arthur's hands. It was about the size of his forearm, its fur shining white in the sun, with a small red, white, and blue ribbon tied around its neck. Alfred took it from him, turning it over in his hands before staring at Arthur in confusion.

"Happy birthday," Arthur muttered out, still staring pointedly away from him, "It's just a silly little thing, I know, and you deserve much better than just a child's toy, but it's all that they had. If I had had any actual _time_ it would something much better, but for now you're just going to have to deal with it."

Alfred stared at him with an emotion akin to amazement. "Let me get this straight," He stated, holding the bear gingerly in his palms, "You're not angry with me because I didn't tell you. You're angry with me because the fact that I didn't tell you means you couldn't get me a nice enough present."

"Well, when you put it that way it seems much less serious than it actually is," Arthur mumbled, indignant, and Alfred couldn't help himself – he reached forward and threw his arms around the other boy, a blindingly bright grin on his face.

"Alfred, what on earth –" Arthur laughed out, lifting his hands up to rest on his shoulders, the taller boy pulling back a bit to beam at him.

"You're the coolest person a guy could know," He blurted out, watching as Arthur's face somehow got even redder at the statement. In the summer sun, the blush seemed to make his face cuter than it usually was, and Alfred had to force himself away to keep from placing a kiss upon his cheek. _I'm so glad that you're the person I'm in love with,_ Alfred thought, and his smile softened with fondness.

"This is perfect," He gestured towards the bear in his hand, love swelling in his chest, "You shouldn't ever feel like anything you do isn't enough for me, because you'll _always_ be enough for me."

Arthur's breath hitched in his chest, and they both stared at each other for a moment, not a sound passing between them. After a few seconds, however, Arthur turned away, blush heavy on his cheeks, and Alfred did the same, lifting a hand to rub sheepishly at the back of his neck. "Anyway," He continued, "Where did you even get this thing?"

"What?" Arthur asked, shaking his head as if pulling himself out of a daze, "Oh, yes, that – I won it."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "You won it?"

"Mhm," Arthur confirmed, nodding his head a bit, "At one of those little booths they had down the way."

"You've got to be kidding me," Alfred blurted out in amazement, "That's not even possible."

Arthur stared at him indignantly, crossing his arms. "I assure you, it certainly is possible. You've got the proof in your hands."

"No way," Alfred shook his head, beginning to slowly walk along the side of the building, Arthur almost unconsciously keeping in stride, "Look, no matter how good you may be at throwing rings or whatever, you just can't win a game at a fair. It's all rigged."

"I don't know what to tell you, Alfred, but I did win it for you," Arthur laughed out, "Honestly, it sounds like you're a bit bitter. Have you had many bad experiences?"

"Shut up," Alfred pouted, playfully shoving Arthur's shoulder. Arthur only grinned in response, not seeming to mind when Alfred left his hand resting there rather than moving it away.

* * *

 **Oh yes, Arthur, why would anybody ever think of you as a drama queen?**

 **After two weeks, we're back! As it turns out, the SAT isn't really condusive to fanfiction writing. Either way, though, this story is back on track just in time for the end. Suffice to say, I have (once again) procrastinated the ending, so the next chapter will still be them at the fair doing other fair things.**

 **Thank all of you so much for sticking with me through all of this! Your views, reviews, follows, and favorites are what keep me writing this even when it gets really difficult! You're all the sweetest readers a writer could have, honestly!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	38. The Equivalence Point

Alfred stared up at the sky, watching as the sun began to disappear behind the trees. It wasn't quite dark yet, but there was an orange tint to the world that made everything seem so much softer. He turned to Arthur with a grimace on his face, gesturing upwards with the bag of cotton candy he held in his hand. "It's getting dark," He sighed, regretfully making the other boy aware of the situation.

Arthur glanced upwards in surprise, his own hands clasped around a bottle of water. "Already?" He asked, eyebrows furrowing in displeasure, "We can't have been here for that long. We've only just _gotten_ here."

Alfred let out a bitter laugh, leaning back onto the bench that they'd been sitting on and rubbing one hand into his eyes. "I wish," He muttered out before disappointedly adding, "You've probably got to be getting home, right?"

They had spent the entire day together, just the two of them, not doing much else other than walking around and talking to each other. As it turned out, there really weren't many interesting things to do at a 4-H fair – unless one particularly enjoyed pig shows or seventh grade artwork. After they had exhausted what little there was to actually do there, they had simply kept talking, neither of them ready to admit that they should leave.

It had been one of the most wonderful days of Alfred's life. Talking to Arthur had always been so simple, so easy, that the hours had literally flown by. He couldn't even entirely remember what they had talked about – they'd jumped from topic to topic at a whim, focusing more on each other's company than the conversation.

Every single time that he'd looked at Arthur, even the smallest glance, he could feel his heart swell to the point of bursting. He had almost forgotten, in the time that they'd been apart, exactly how much he loved the other boy. His laugh, his smile, his eyes – they all reminded him of how things had been when they had been together, and he marveled over the fact that he could be homesick for a person that he was standing right next to.

"I probably should," Arthur breathed out with a sigh, interrupting Alfred's thoughts, "Allistor is most likely ready to kill me as it is."

Alfred let out a small chuckle, shoving himself up off of the bench and staring down at the other boy. "Well, it was fun while it lasted, right?" He asked, nervousness suddenly settling in as he realized that he was going to have to say goodbye.

Arthur simply stared up at him, not moving from his position on the bench. "What do you mean?" He questioned, blinking at him in the dimming light.

"Uh," Alfred mumbled out, not entirely sure how to respond, "I had fun? Thanks for hanging out with me? See you later?"

Arthur let out a small laugh, reaching up to grasp Alfred's wrist and pulling him back down onto the bench. "I said that Allistor's going to kill me," He reasoned, "I didn't say that meant that I particularly cared."

"Oh," Alfred breathed out, staring at the other boy before a small grin began to grow on his face, " _Oh._ So you're not gonna leave?"

"Not until I have to," Arthur grinned back, a flush on his face, before his eyes seemed to widen in realization, "U-unless you need to leave, of course, in which case I suppose that this _is_ goodbye."

"Nah, I can go home whenever," Alfred shrugged, draping one hand across the back of the bench, "My parents are working the late shift and Matt's out with friends, so nobody is even there to notice if I get home on time or not."

Arthur snorted. "You know, I should probably be reprimanding you for that," He replied, "But considering it means that we get to stay at the fair longer, I don't think I can bring myself to do so."

Alfred opened his mouth to reply when a sudden, sharp sound came from his left. He quickly turned his head, the both of them seeking out the source of the noise, only to find that a man had dropped a small black case onto the cement of the small stage that sat in the middle of the park. The man lifted the case back up and opened it, pulling out a violin and sitting down to begin tuning it.

"What on earth?" Arthur asked, staring at the stage in confusion as three other men climbed up the stairs, all but one holding their own black cases in varying sizes, "What's going on?"

"I almost forgot about this!" Alfred exclaimed, eyes sparkling in excitement as the men began plugging in various wires all across the stage, "It's been so long since I've been here at night, I didn't even notice them setting up."

He turned sideways, facing Arthur with a grin. "Every night of the fair, starting right at sunset, they have this local Americana band come and play," He whispered out, not wanting to disturb the men as they checked their sound, "I just love listening to it. The music kind of feels like home, ya know?"

Arthur gave him a small smile, fondness sparkling in his eyes as he stared up at the other boy. "Yes," He breathed out, "I believe that I do."

Alfred beamed back at him as the first note of the song started, the sound of the guitar seeming to resonate inside his heart. As the sun began to set, lights went up all around the park, people beginning to shuffle into the stage area where they'd been sitting. The speakers blasted out throughout the whole fair, and soon enough the seats were packed, the band fully into their set.

"What is this?" Arthur asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the stage in concentration, "I've never heard anything like it."

"I told you, it's Americana," Alfred replied, a gentle smile on his lips as he stared at the other boy. His entire being seemed to shine in the low light, and Alfred could feel his heart thumping in his chest as those green eyes turned to look into his. "It's kind of its own little thing. I'm glad I could show you one good thing today, at least."

"You've shown me other good things today," Arthur whispered out, "It's – I'm glad that you asked me to come."

Alfred felt almost as if his heart was about to burst, but he kept quiet, unable to respond with anything but a smile. Arthur seemed to understand, however, and soon enough his knowing gaze had turned back to the stage, watching the band with that soft light in his eyes.

After a few moments of silence, however, Alfred noticed a small movement to his right, and turned to see Arthur shivering, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. He suddenly realized just how cold it had gotten after the sun had set, and almost instinctively he reached his arm over and pulled the other boy into his chest, resting his hand on his shoulder.

Arthur seemed frozen for a moment, neither of them saying anything as the music continued to play gently in the background. _Why did I do that?_ Alfred thought, gut clenching as he realized exactly what he had just done. The motion had been almost possessive and definitely romantic, the other boy's body fitting perfectly in the crook of his body just as it had so long ago. Alfred bit his lip in nervousness, wanting to pull away in embarrassment.

After a moment, however, Arthur hesitantly shifted on the bench, moving a bit closer to him and gingerly resting his head upon Alfred's shoulder. Alfred suddenly couldn't breathe, his breath hitching in his throat as his heart began to soar. He glanced down at the other boy, unable to keep a blush from creeping up his cheeks, and he leaned a little closer to make it more comfortable for him.

"This is probably a really bad idea," Alfred laughed out as they walked down the street, barely able to see anything through the darkness, "You have really bad ideas, did you know that?"

Arthur rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he kicked a rock across the pavement. "It's already past dark. What's a few more hours?" He reasoned.

"Probably even more trouble, to be honest," Alfred responded, and Arthur let out a laugh of his own as they rounded the corner of Alfred's house. Even after the music had stopped, neither of them had really wanted to leave the other, and so Alfred had suggested that they go back to his house – the key word being _suggested_. He certainly hadn't expected the other boy to take him up on his offer.

"Don't be absurd. I'm practically an adult, you know," Arthur muttered out as he opened the door, the two of them stepping into the darkened living room. Alfred didn't even bother to turn on the light, choosing instead to guide Arthur through the maze of furniture towards his bedroom door.

"You're ridiculous," He stated, grin on his face as he shut the door behind him, flicking the switch on the wall and flooding the room with light.

"I haven't been in here for forever," Arthur laughed out, staring at the childish posters and action figures, "You really haven't changed, have you?"

"It's just my room," Alfred pouted, crossing his arms, "I can keep it the same if I want to."

"Oh, yes, I'm not denying that. But –" Arthur suddenly paused, his breath hitching in his throat as the atmosphere between them suddenly shifted, the playfulness gone in an instant. It was silent for a few seconds, and then all of a sudden Arthur whispered, voice thick with emotion, "You kept it?"

"What?" Alfred questioned, staring at the other boy's face and nearly panicking as he saw his eyes beginning to water, "Artie? Are you _crying_?"

Arthur hastily wiped his eyes with the back of his hand before moving to sit on Alfred's bed, reaching through the pile of sheets to pull something into his lap. "You still have the pillow I gave you for Christmas," He murmured, thumbing across the worn stitches and frayed fabric.

"I – yeah, of course I do," He stammered out, worry cloying his voice as he moved forward to sit next to the other boy, "Why are you crying? Are you okay? Did – did I do something wrong?"

"No," Arthur shook his head vehemently, clutching the pillow even tighter in his hands, "I just can't believe that you kept this old thing, even after – even after everything that happened between us, I don't know why you would still have it at all."

Alfred could feel his breath hitch at this statement, and he squared his shoulders, knowing what he had to do. He had spent long enough trying to avoid this conversation, to try to push it away by feeling sorry for himself or ignoring the whole thing, but he couldn't let that go on any longer. The boy that he loved was right in front of him, and if he didn't do this right now, he knew that he may never have another chance.

He took a deep breath, grasping Arthur's hands and turning him so that he could look him in the eyes. "Arthur," He began, voice shaky, "I've made a lot of mistakes in my life, but the worst one of all was hurting you. Sometimes, when I remember that look you had on your face, the guilt feels like it's eating me up. I stole your diary, I read it, and I lied to you about it, but I'm not going to pretend that that isn't a thing that happened."

He paused for a moment, watching as Arthur stared up at him in confusion. "I had a lot of time to think about this," Alfred insisted, "And I don't think we should let bygones be bygones. I don't wanna just act like nothing happened between us and move on with our lives – if you ignore the past, you're just gonna repeat it."

"A-and don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to pressure you into anything!" Alfred hurriedly asserted, "I'd understand if you never wanted to see me again, let alone get back together. Not that I don't want to get back together, but –"

Alfred bit his lip, closing his eyes as he prepared to end his speech. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry," He explained, a sense of finality in his voice, "And that I kept the pillow because I never stopped being in love with you this whole time."

For a few moments, silence reigned, and then all of a sudden a large _smack_ sounded throughout the room as Arthur slapped him straight across the face. Alfred's eyes flew open in shock, glancing over to see the other boy with face flushed and arms crossed, eyes full of tears.

"You're a complete jackass," He bit out, eyebrows furrowed, "I can't even explain how betrayed I felt when you did that to me, even after I put so much faith into you. And I don't know what's worse – the fact that you did it at all or the fact that I had to find out about it from _Francis_ of all people! You don't know how awful it was for me to know that not only did you lie to me, but you couldn't even trust me enough to tell me so."

"Not to mention everything that I went through while we were broken up," He continued, "It was right before the AP test, you absolute tit, and all of a sudden the person that I was _supposed_ to be able to rely on was gone. I was so terrified, I had no idea what I was doing – I cried in the middle of the exam, for God's sake! I needed you, and you weren't there."

Alfred hung his head in shame, knowing that he deserved every word and more. "But," Arthur stated, tone softer and gentler than before, and Alfred glanced up once more, "It isn't as if I ever told you that it was my diary, so I really should have been more angry at myself than you. And you did apologize who knows how many times – even when I was being childish and ignoring you rather than having a real conversation about it. I should have realized that it wasn't all your responsibility to fix our problems. I should have simply _assumed_ that you would know exactly what I wanted from you if I didn't tell you what I wanted."

"I guess what _I'm_ trying to say is that we're both at fault," He murmured out as he brought one hand up to cup Alfred's cheek, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall from his eyes, "And that I forgive you and will _always_ forgive you because I never stopped loving you, either."

With that, Arthur leaned up and gently placed his lips upon Alfred's, bringing his unoccupied hand up to cup his other cheek. Alfred immediately leaned forward into the kiss, feeling their tears mingling as he tangled his fingers in Arthur's disheveled hair. Arthur's lips were so soft, so gentle, and tasted faintly of tea – he had forgotten how much he missed that taste.

As they pulled away to catch their breaths, Alfred leaned his forehead against Arthur's, hands still cupped softly at the nape of his neck. "I love you," He whispered into the air between them, "More than all of Uup's electrons."

Arthur laughed, his breath heavy against Alfred's lips, and he could almost feel him roll his eyes. "Of course you would say that right now, you absolute nerd," He murmured, "But to be fair, I love _you_ more than Uuo's electrons, which is three more than Uup, so _there_."

"No fair," Alfred breathed out a small chuckle before pulling back a bit, suddenly seeming apprehensive, "So does this mean that – I mean, do you – are we –"

"Together?" Arthur finished for him, pulling his hand down and tangling their fingers together, "Would you like to be?"

"Yeah," Alfred nodded his consent, "More than anything."

"Well then," He returned, "I suppose that we are." And then he burst out with a smile so blindingly bright that Alfred couldn't help but reach forward to kiss him once more.

Just as their lips made contact, however, there was a small buzzing noise, and Arthur pulled back to grab his phone out of his pocket.

"Artie," Alfred whined, trying to tug the phone out of his hands, "Come on, can't it wait?"

"It could be my mother," Arthur reasoned, giving his boyfriend a fond look before glancing across the screen of the phone and immediately paling, "It's not my mother."

"What's wrong?" He asked, watching as the other boy slid open the lock screen to view whatever message he had waiting for him.

Arthur stared up at him with a look of dread. "It's midnight," He breathed out, "Which means that it's officially July 7th."

"Okay?" Alfred questioned, not understanding why that was such an upsetting topic.

"Alfred," He whispered, voice catching in his throat, "The AP scores are out."

"Oh," Alfred responded before his eyes seemed to widen in realization, " _Oh_."

"You should look at yours first," Arthur insisted, holding his phone tightly in his hands, "I don't know if I'm ready to see mind just yet."

Alfred nodded, pulling his phone out of his back pocket and nervously opening the AP website, nearly holding his breath as he typed in his password. After a few moments of staring at the screen, he breathed out a sigh, glancing up at the other boy in relief. "I got a five in chemistry and a five in APUSH."

"I wouldn't have expected any less from you," Arthur said with a tight grin on his face, not knowing what waited for him. Alfred watched as he slid his own phone open, pushing a few buttons that he couldn't see before sitting and waiting for something to happen. Suddenly, Arthur's breath hitched, tears beginning to well in his eyes, and Alfred reached forward to envelop him in his arms.

"Oh, babe, I'm so sorry," He comforted, rubbing his hands along Arthur's back, "But it doesn't matter that much at all – a lot of colleges don't even take AP scores anyway, so –"

"It's not that," Arthur laughed out, tears still streaming down his face as he pushed the other boy slightly away from him, "I got a _three._ I was expecting a one, but I got a _three_."

A bright grin burst onto Alfred's face, and he excitedly grasped Arthur's hands. "That's – that's amazing!" He cheered, "Artie, that's completely amazing! Congratulations!"

Arthur laughed at his enthusiasm, absolutely beaming as Alfred placed kiss after kiss upon his lips. "Alfred –" He tried to begin, his boyfriend continuing to interrupt him, "Really – it's not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal?" Alfred questioned, incredulous, "Artie, this is _awesome_. This whole night is _awesome._ My _boyfriend_ just got a three on his AP Chemistry exam. We need to celebrate!"

"You sentimental idiot," Arthur laughed out, not bothering to push the other boy away from where he was wrapped around him, "Honestly, it's mostly because of your tutoring, and –"

At this Arthur paused, eyebrows furrowing as he seemed to think of something. After a moment, he whispered, "We never got t-shirts."

"What?" Alfred questioned, not understanding the sudden change in subject.

"Those ridiculous t-shirts that Gilbert kept bothering us about," Arthur breathed out, looking at his boyfriend with an emotion akin to amazement, "We never actually got them."

Alfred stared straight back at him, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. "Oh my god," He blurted out, "You're right. After all that trouble he went through just to plan the stupid things, we didn't even get them."

There was a moment of silence as they both simply stared at each other, and then at some invisible command both of them burst out laughing, clutching at their stomachs and at each other as they realized exactly how ridiculous the whole situation was.

And there in that room, lying under the dim lights with tear tracks on their cheeks and love full in their hearts, Alfred closed his eyes and thought back over the year that they'd gone through together. He had made a family in AP Chemistry, their small group growing closer and closer with every day, and it had meant so much to him – all the lessons that he'd learned with them would stick with him forever, and he almost cried at the thought that he had to let all that go. But as Arthur reached down to tangle their hands together, he realized that maybe he didn't need to hold onto it so tightly. There were other things in the world for him to do and remember, and there were other people for him to hold on to.

He opened his eyes and pressed a brief, soft kiss against Arthur's lips, and knew that everything was going to be alright.

THE END

* * *

 **I'm not crying,** _ **you're**_ **crying.**

 **So this is actually the last chapter and not another procrastination chapter (although to be fair, this one is so big I could split it into two). This is also the second chapter that I'm posting today – well, not technically, but it's four in the morning and I didn't sleep so I'm counting it. All we have left is the epilogue, and then this whole thing will be done!**

 **Thank you all so much for sticking with me through this whole thing. It means so much to me that you read, review, favorite, and follow this little story of mine that somehow turned into the giant 90k piece that it is today. I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you, and I can say with absolute certainty that you're all the sweetest readers a writer could ever have!**

 **~Alix Marie**


	39. Happily Ever After

Alfred leaned over his desk, looking over the room with a bright smile before turning back to the board, pen in hand. The class looked completely bored out of their minds, something that would usually bother him. Today, however, it was absolutely perfect considering what he had planned – the less focused they were, the less they would see it coming.

He had been teaching at this school for about five years now, and the surprised reaction to his present had never really gotten old. Every year it was the same – the kids would take their finals two days before Christmas break, and would resign themselves to the bad grades that they inevitably thought they'd gotten. And then, on the last day, he would curve the test (the biggest curve he gave the entire year) and order pizza.

Alfred tried to force his smile down as he wrote a few calculations down on the board. The first year that he'd done it, he'd been nervous that his students wouldn't be able to keep it a secret for the next year's class – but he didn't need to worry. When he asked them to keep quiet, they always did, no matter how many other stories they would pass down to the incoming AP Chemistry kids (probably because he bribed them with pizza, but he didn't really care).

"So to answer your question," Alfred explained, turning back towards the class, "The answer to number twenty-three would be A, not B, because the extra pair of electrons makes the bonding angle smaller. Like this, see –"

Alfred made a small motion with his hands, the lethargic students caught between laughing and rolling their eyes at their teacher's antics. He was well-known throughout the school for being one of the most energetic teachers – and one of the best as well, his methods making a usually difficult subject much easier to understand. The kids really did seem to like him, and Alfred smiled at the thought.

"Now, most of you missed question thirty-five, which is pretty understandable considering –" Alfred broke off in the middle of his sentence as a knock sounded at the door, quick and precise. The students looked up from their tests in curiosity, and Alfred shot them a grin as he headed towards it, dropping his marker down onto the table on his way.

He wrapped his hand around the handle, gave his class a small glance, and then pulled, the door swinging open to reveal Arthur with a stack of pizzas and a scowl. Alfred gave him a bright grin, but he only stormed past in order to shove the pizzas down onto his desk, the students staring on in surprise.

"I cannot _believe_ you made me do this," Arthur complained, crossing his arms, "They almost wouldn't let me back into the school afterwards, as if they hadn't just seen me leave and didn't already _know_ who I am!"

"Aw, come on," Alfred laughed out, a grateful smile on his face, "It can't have been that bad. Besides, you're a saint for doing it. It wouldn't be a surprise if I got them and the secretary said that she was tired of it and wouldn't pick them up anymore."

"Yes, well," Arthur grumbled, trailing off as a pleased blush appeared on his face. Alfred opened his mouth to reply, but was quickly cut off by a small, "Mr. Kirkland?"

The both of them turned to face the class, looking over at the students who were staring at them in confusion. "Ah, yes, hello," Arthur breathed out, his face flushing even more as he realized they'd been there the whole time. One student scrunched up her nose, staring at the English teacher in bewilderment, before asking, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, Alfred – _Mr. Jones,_ " He corrected himself, blushing up to his ears in embarrassment as Alfred shot him a grin, "Asked me to deliver these pizzas to you since I've got a free period at the moment."

"Yep! _Mr. Kirkland,_ " Alfred emphasized with a laugh, leaning back onto the countertop, "Brought these in to help me surprise you guys. Merry Christmas!"

A loud cheer went all across the room, and Alfred grinned as the students began to line up to take a slice back to their seats, not caring that their teacher hadn't even gotten the plates out yet. In the pandemonium, Arthur began to slip towards the door before Alfred caught his arm.

"Hey," He began, voice soft as he stared into other man's eyes, "Where are you going? The party is only just getting started."

"Alfred, I've got class," Arthur explained, pulling his arm out of the other's grip, "I can't just stay here because you ordered pizza."

"But you _don't_ have class," Alfred complained, "You just said yourself that you've got a free period right now."

"Well I still have papers to grade," Arthur replied, eyebrows furrowing, "Not all of us can stop everything just to have a party."

"But _Artie_ ," Alfred whined, and suddenly a round of giggles erupted throughout the room. Both of them stopped in the middle of their conversation, turning to look at the smirking students in confusion. After a moment, Alfred let out a bewildered, "What?"

There was another few seconds of giggling before one student answered, "You called Mr. Kirkland _Artie_." Another round of laughter followed, and Arthur hid his face in his hands as Alfred continued to look at them in confusion.

"Yes?" Alfred questioned, his nose scrunched up as he turned his head to stare at Arthur, "I don't understand what's so funny about that."

The students laughed again, staring at the two men, and another student responded, "It just sounds like the sort of nickname you'd use, like… _romantically_." The laughter was harder now, as if it had somehow become funnier now that someone had vocalized it.

Alfred, for his part, continued to stare at them in perplexity. "Well, duh," He eventually replied, looking over the students with one eyebrow cocked, "I mean, he _is_ my husband."

At this, the students went completely silent, their eyes widening as they looked up at their teacher. Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, his entire face blushing a bright, brilliant red in the quiet of the room. Nobody moved for a few moments, everyone standing completely still, before one student snorted out, "Very funny, Mr. Jones. You sure got us good."

"I'm not joking," Alfred responded with a shrug, "We really are married. It'll be seven years this July, right Artie?"

Arthur gave an embarrassed little nod, but the students still looked a bit suspicious, knowing how their teacher liked to play pranks and other childish things. Eventually, Alfred heaved a sigh. "Alright, look," He said, grabbing Arthur's left hand with his own and pulling them out in front of them, "Matching wedding rings, see?"

The students gathered around in awe, staring at their rings, and Arthur fidgeted uncomfortably. One student quietly whispered, "Holy shit," and then all of a sudden the room was in an uproar, everyone shouting and laughing all at once. Not only did two of their favorite teachers know each other, but they were actually _married._ It was a once-in-a-lifetime surprise, and they were taking the opportunity to celebrate in their new knowledge.

Arthur pulled his hand away from Alfred and used it to cover his face, even the tips of his ears flushing. Alfred slung his arm around him, a look of pride falling over his features, and only laughed as Arthur buried his face even further into his hands.

When they arrived home that night, Arthur was quiet, hanging up his coat on the hook and silently heading into their living room. Alfred followed him, shoving his shoes off by the door and littering his things across the floor. "So I know that we had pizza for lunch, but I'm not really in the mood to cook right now," Alfred whined as he flopped down onto the couch, leaning his head against the back, "What do you say to ordering Chinese?"

Arthur didn't respond, and Alfred sat up, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows. "Babe?" He asked, worry evident in his voice, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Fine," Arthur responded, tone pinched as he began to pick up a few papers that were lying forlorn on their end table. His movements were stiff and jilted, and he avoided his husband's eyes as he moved past him to put them in the other room.

Alfred heaved a relieved sigh, laying his head back down upon the couch. "Oh thank God," He breathed out, closing his eyes, "You're just mad at me."

At this, Arthur flipped around, eyes furious as he stared at the other man. "You just _had_ to go and make a spectacle of me in front of your whole class!" He hissed out, gesturing with the papers, "Not to mention the fact that it had gotten around to the whole school by fifth period! I couldn't get anyone to pay attention the whole day because they wouldn't stop asking questions! Do you know how _embarrassed_ I was?"

"I didn't think it was that big of a deal," Alfred shrugged, running one hand through his hair.

Arthur threw his arms up, beginning to pace across the room. "Not a big deal?" He questioned, his voice rising in volume, "Alfred, you didn't even think to _ask_ if I would be okay with it or not!"

"Alright, babe, I get it," Alfred conceded, standing up and grabbing Arthur's hands in order to stop his pacing, "I'm sorry that I embarrassed you by spilling the beans on the secret. I just didn't really know that our marriage _was_ a secret, is all."

Arthur stared at him in confusion, the anger almost entirely evaporating from his face. "What do you mean?" He asked, voice wary.

"If I would've known that nobody's supposed to know about us, I wouldn't have told them," Alfred explained, his face having fallen a little, "It's just – I'm not ashamed of you, so I kind of assumed that you wouldn't be ashamed of _me_."

Arthur's eyes widened and he grasped Alfred's hands even tighter in his own, vehemently shaking his head. "Oh, darling, I didn't mean it like that," He pleaded, "I'm not ashamed of you – quite the opposite, really. You're the best husband a man could have. You're sweet, kind, considerate, and you never forget our anniversary, even though I have so many times already. And I love you, so much that it makes my heart ache sometimes. But that's our personal, private life, and I didn't want anyone else to be a part of it – which is a little selfish, I know, but when it comes to you I can't help but want to keep everything all to myself."

Alfred's face melted a little at this speech. "It's the exact opposite with me," Alfred explained, a fond look falling across his features, "I love everything about you, and sometimes I just need everyone else to know how perfect and wonderful and amazing you are. The only reason that I told the students in the first place was because in that moment I just needed them all to know how irrevocably and completely I loved you."

Arthur laughed, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, "Your vocabulary certainly has improved over the years, hasn't it?"

"It's all thanks to you, sweetheart. You're basically my own personal word-a-day calendar," Alfred smiled, leaning forward to place a small kiss against his husband's lips, leaning their foreheads together after they were separated. Silence reigned in the room for a moment, punctured only by the sound of their breathing.

After a few seconds, Alfred closed his eyes, heaving out a sigh. "I'm glad we're not fighting," Alfred admitted, rubbing his thumbs across the back of Arthur's hands, "I hate it when we fight."

Arthur breathed out a laugh, placing his lips briefly against his husband's forehead before pulling back to stare into his eyes. "Oh, come off it," He chuckled, "You know that I can never really stay angry at you. I mean, what's the longest fight we've had since we've been married? A day, maybe two?"

"A week, when I punched Allistor in the face," Alfred corrected, "You made me sleep on the couch the whole time. But to be fair, he deserved it for what he said about hamburgers."

Arthur rolled his eyes, flicking him in the nose as he began to make his way out of the room. "You ought to be glad that you're so lovable," He snorted out as he headed towards the door, "And Chinese sounds fine, by the way. Just make sure not to eat all the rice this time."

"Gotcha!" Alfred grinned, watching as Arthur walked into the other room, his eyes quickly moving to his left hand as soon as he was out of eyesight. The ring glinted in the dim light, and he let a fond smile grow across his face. Even after all this time, he really did love Arthur – more than anything else in the world.

* * *

 **And there's the epilogue, which means that this thing is officially over! I can't believe it.**

 **I can't even explain how much it means to me that all of you have read this. Especially all of you who have stuck through since the very beginning – all of your favorites, follows, and reviews have kept me writing this all the way to the end. Honestly, I'm about to start crying right now. You're all the sweetest readers that a writer could ever hope for, and I take every single one of your reviews to heart. Thank you all** _ **so**_ **much.**

 **~Alix Marie**


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